Winging It
by TwinTrouble
Summary: A Master's story of a world that's not as good and fair as everyone thinks, of people she can't protect forever, of betrayal and plans gone wrong. When you get to the top, there’s nowhere to go but down. So get ready to fall… until you’re taught to fly.
1. The Benden Master

This chapter was officially rewritten by Twin2 on 3-9-07.

Readers new and old, welcome to Winging It. If you've been reading for a while you'll see I've done a bit of a plot review; apologies for that, but it was driving me _crazy. _Crazier than Wing on one of her bad days. If you've already read chapters one to six, then you can skip over these and go straight on to the new chapters I'm sure I put up earlier this morning. If you're new, read on and enjoy.

Drakoleses, apologies, but I'm not kidding, these chapters were seriously driving me insane. I've got everything back on track now, though, so get ready for one hell of a ride.

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**One: The Benden Master**

May 23rd, spring

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"Sparks!" the girl cried out. She cupped her hands around her mouth and tried again. "Sparks!" Nothing.

Swearing quietly, she continued down the path, limping slightly and leaning on a wooden staff to keep her balance. Her path was confident, as if she knew where she was going, even though she was searching for her currently AWOL friend. After a hundred metres or so she paused once more, filled her lungs, and shouted a deafening cry. "SPARKACHU!"

Faintly, on the edge of her hearing, she heard an answering shout from all too far off and sighed softly, not quite with relief, but not at all uncaring.

"Finally," she muttered, eyes flashing with annoyance. For just a minute they flickered with a paler brown tint and speckles of gold before steadying to their usual mahogany. There was a slight twitch at the side of her eye that might have indicated pain at the switch, but the girl walked on without pause, unsmiling. Her face was deadly serious, and even though her tanned skin and often lively brown eyes would indicate otherwise, this was her usual attitude. Long black hair was tied into a loose ponytail that fell to her knees – a long distance, as she was also quite tall.

A small yellow Pokémon suddenly leaped onto her shoulder with shriek, but she wasn't startled. Never was, never would be.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked, not reprimanding, merely interested.

"Chu, ka ka chu!" the Pikachu-like creature declared in its Pokémon dialect, waving the tail that was much more tapered than an average Pikachu's.

"You're evil, my friend," the girl announced nonchalantly, watching several flocks of Taillow and Pidgey shoot overhead, looking rather aggravated.

"Chu chu," said the Pokémon happily. She and the human walked on – well, the _human_ walked. The small electric-type rode on her shoulder, an easy fit; the shoulder was a popular place for members of the Pikachu evolutionary line to sit.

The sun was almost directly overhead when the girl stopped walking and sat with her back against a tree, grimacing faintly. The Pokémon immediately hopped off her shoulder and chirruped at her anxiously, tugging on the sleeve. "Chu! Ka, kachu?"

The girl nodded slowly. "Don't worry, I'm okay. This leg just makes it a little hard to move. And –" she cut herself off with a gasp. "It's starting to ache, bad." She let her staff fall to the floor. "Sparks, you're evil."

"Chu?" The little creature she called 'Sparks' looked up innocently.

"Quit poking my leg or I'll poke you!" the girl snapped, her voice suddenly a whole lot more annoyed. Her eyes streaked with silver as the Pokémon jumped back, stumbling over a rock, before fading once more to brown.

Sparks poked out her tongue and leaped away, making the girl, known as Wing, even madder. "Come back here! You're a menace to society! And me!"

Sparks grinned. "Kachu, kachu, chu ka ka."

"You're evil," said Wing, for the third time that day.

But, evil and a menace to society or no, it didn't stop Wing from getting out a pot and knife and making a quick vegetable soup-stew-casserole thing for the pair of them. Sparks filched a slice of dried leppa berry from Wing's backpack when she wasn't looking and watched her stir the pot absentmindedly.

The girl wore a pair of considerably battered jeans, torn at the knee from one too many stumbles with her bad leg. Her top was a pale blue polo shirt with black cuffs and collar, and a pale blue headband kept whatever long black hair that escaped her ponytail under control and out of her face.

Wing ladled out two bowls of soup and handed one to Sparks, who peeped happily and dug in, accepting the spoon Wing thrust at her after a messy slurp or two. Shaking her head, the girl prodded at her own bowl listlessly for a moment, took a couple of mouthfuls and then pushed it away.

Sparks looked up immediately. "Chaa?"

"I'm just not hungry," she muttered by way of explanation. "I just…" she sighed. "I don't want to eat."

"Chuu! Cha chu!" Sparks waved her spoon at the girl vehemently. Wing couldn't hold back a smile, even though her stomach was churning.

"Sorry, girl. I just don't want to eat anything." Wing sighed again, leaning back against the tree and closing her eyes. "Not hungry."

"Chu!" Sparks stood up and poked at the human with her spoon. Wing opened one eye to glare at her. "Chu chu ka ka chua!" the creature explained emphatically, waving its arms around and pointing at the spoon to help get its message across. "Ka!"

"Sparks, I'm not hungry," Wing said crossly. "I just feel a little sick, okay? Nothing to have a mental meltdown over."

Sparks leaped from the ground onto her companion's head and smacked her on the forehead with her spoon.

"Ow! What the hell!?"

"Chu! Chu chu chu!" Sparks poked at her friend's mouth with the spoon.

"Ow! Sparks, I don't want to eat! Flaming hell!" Wing grabbed the spoon in one hand and the Pokémon's middle with the other.

What could have become a fight was swiftly broken up by a large Skarmory suddenly diving from the sky and trying to snatch the creature Wing called Sparks straight out of her grip. The electric-type ducked the blow.

Wing grabbed up her staff, dropping the spoon for now, and smacked the steel/flying type with it, Sparks still clinging to her head and Wing's hand still on her to hold her steady. "Oi!" Wing shouted, furious, not at Sparks for once, but at their unwarranted attacker. "You leave Sparks alone!" The Skarmory came swooping down again for another shot and Wing whacked the left wingtip, forcing the Pokémon to sweep off to the side. Elementary physics of flight.

Wing clumsily alternated Sparks and her staff so that the weapon/walking stick was in her right hand – her strong one. "Try that again," she snarled, moving her body into an aggressive position but holding the staff defensively.

The apparently very hungry Skarmory dove towards her again, and Wing's bad leg chose that moment to give out: she was well-balanced, too well, with too much weight on the injured limb. She fell sideways with a startled yelp.

Sparks decided to take things into her own hands – paws. Leaping from Wing's head, she charged up, sparks spitting from her distinctive star-shaped cheeks, and released a powerful electric attack with a yowl of fury.

The Skarmory screamed and fell back, shaking its now-smoking head. Wing sat up dazedly. "Thanks for getting off before shooting that charge, that looked like it hurt," she said.

Suddenly the steel-flying combo decided that this was too much trouble for a skinny electric rodent and flapped off quickly, to find a lunch with less firepower and fewer angry humans defending it.

Wing blinked as Sparks landed in front of her. "That was a piece of excitement I didn't count on," she remarked, and turned back to the covered soup. It was still bubbling happily, completely undisturbed and uncaring that the two who had been tending it had just been fighting for Sparks's life.

Wing shook her head sadly. "Life, why do you hate me?" she sighed mournfully.

----

Jessie, James and Meowth of Team Rocket had been watching this whole encounter on a nearby hill. "I can't believe you lost those twerps!" Well, James and Meowth had been watching. Jessie was fuming over losing Ash and his friends in the nearby forest where they were trekking, completely oblivious to the life-and-death battle that had just taken place.

"That girl's Pikachu is very strong," James observed, not paying attention to Jessie's shouting. "Possibly even stronger than the twerp's Pikachu. It drove off that Skarmory in a single shot."

Meowth nodded his agreement, also ignoring Jessie, who was still ranting in the background about maps and binoculars. He adjusted his own binoculars fastidiously and piped up, "It's not a normal Pikachu, either. It's too small, for one thing. Its tail is a funny shape, the black on its ears dips inwards and its cheeks are star-shaped. Very distinctive. It must be a rare sub-species."

"Let's capture it!" Jessie announced randomly. James and Meowth looked at each other.

"She was actually listening?"

----

Wing carefully dabbed at Sparks with a cloth soaked with a mix of disinfectant and Potion, even as the Pokémon complained and wriggled, trying to escape.

"Sparky, there's something cut here, and I don't want it infected." The girl pinned her friend down ruthlessly and swiped the cloth she was using over the Pokémon's cheeks. "If it's stinging, there's a cut there, so quit whining and hold still!"

"Chu!" The Pokémon pinned her ears down with her hands, trying to shield them from Wing's rampage.

"Oh." Wing paused and drew back a little, letting the electric-type stand up. "So, you'd rather that I don't swab your ears because it stings?"

Sparks nodded.

"So you'd rather let them get infected because I couldn't wash them once and get rid of the germs, and instead have to have them washed every day for a week and bandaged because if I don't you'll get gangrene and die? Or would you rather just let me run the cloth over them once?" She held up one finger to emphasise her point.

Sparks glared at her for a moment, grabbed the cloth, and started cleaning her ears herself.

"Atta girl." Wing poured the uneaten stew/soup into an airtight container – it could be reheated over a fire or camping stove for dinner or tomorrow's lunch. Quickly and keeping an eye on Sparks, she washed out the pot she'd used to make the soup originally and put it back into her backpack, along with the spoons and bowls. She zipped up the bag and dropped it near the path she'd left off before picking up her staff again. "Alright, are we ready to go?"

Sparks threw the cloth at her friend, who caught it without blinking and turned away to cram it into her backpack, saying as she did so, "I guess that takes care of that, right, girl?"

A small explosion interrupted her.

"Chaa!" Sparks screamed, more from surprise than fear. A net had just exploded out of the shrubbery, entangling her and dragging her down. Instantly she began to fight, biting at the ropes of the net and squirming like anything. The ropes began to cut into her sensitive ears, tangled in the cords, and she shrieked, fighting in earnest.

Wing whipped around and her brown eyes widened before flashing grey tinged with gold. "Sparks!" she howled in anger and shock.

Raucous, annoying, sneering laughter announced the arrival of two people and a Pokémon. A balloon shaped like the head of a cat Pokémon began to rise above the trees, a line dragging from it to the net that held Sparks.

"Prepare for trouble!" shouted the woman with long red hair.

"And make it double!" added the man with shorter blue hair.

Wing disregarded them both, dropped her staff and made a flying dive for her Pokémon, which was being lifted into the air.

"Hey! Pay attention!" the woman yelled, before continuing to recite their motto. "To protect the world from devastation!"

"To unite all people in our nation!"

Wing was hanging off the bottom of the net that held her Pokémon captive, swinging slightly with her momentum, but clinging on grimly. "Hang in there, Sparky," she whispered, unable to ignore the lyrics wafting down on her from above and gritting her teeth because of it.

"To denounce the evils of truth and love!"

"To send our reach to the stars above!"

Wing made a disgusted face, struggling frantically with the knots that held the net closed as the balloon drifted higher and trying not to let go and fall off.

"Jessie!"

"James!"

"Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light!"

"Surrender now or prepare to fight!"

"Meowth! That's right!" the Pokémon announced.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Wing told her Pokémon with a grimace. "Those lyrics just… ugh." She shuddered.

"Hey!" Jessie shouted, having only just noticed Wing clinging grimly to the net. "Get off there! We stole that Pikachu fair and square!"

"Pikachu?" Wing said, confused, tugging on the loosening tangle of wire rope. "Boy, are they in for a surprise." The knot gave way at last, and Sparks wriggled out of the snaring cords to sit on Wing's shoulder again.

"Stop that!" Jessie yelled, infuriated.

Meowth sighed. "Here she goes again."

And sure enough, Jessie was off ranting about how people should make their own way in the world and not feed off the success of others. James and Meowth stood by idly and pretended to listen.

Wing ignored them all once more and began to climb up the rope that connected the net to the balloon, arm muscles straining, hand over hand, until she gauged she was close enough, set her foot in a loop of the rope and used it as a platform to push off from, jumping straight into the balloon's basket.

Jessie paused in her ranting, obviously not ready to have a calmly angry girl suddenly leap up from below the basket. James and Meowth stared at her with obvious surprise as Sparks transferred herself from the girl's shoulder to stand next to her on the edge of the basket.

"How the hell did you get up here?!" Jessie shouted, furious.

"I told you we should have –" Meowth was cut off by Jessie, who shouted, "How dare you interrupt me!"

It probably would have gone on a lot longer than that, except Wing intervened by saying loudly, "Y'know, evil monologues are not cool, they are really annoying and a pointless waste of time."

She had their attention again, although for how long was still in question. So she took advantage of it. "Stealing Pokémon is cruel, cowardly and lazy. You should be ashamed of yourselves, but, seeing as I doubt you will, I'll have to administer a punishment myself."

"What are you gonna do, twerp?" Jessie sneered confidently.

Wing ignored the jab and turned her head slightly to the side and down to look at Sparks. "Hey, little Sparkachu," she said clearly, making sure Team Rocket heard every word. "Got enough power for a Discharge?"

The electric type grinned and cracked her knuckles. It was answer enough.

Wing inclined her head and braced herself. This was going to sting. "Go for it, girl."

"Spark…" the creature began to say, electricity crackling around her cheeks.

"What in the world?" Meowth wondered.

"Kaa…" it continued, clenching her fists to brace the power of the attack. Wing tensed, getting ready.

"CHUUUU!"

Electricity blasted through the balloon as Wing sprang off, executing a perfect backflip and getting zapped only slightly from the offshoots as her Pokémon followed her suicidal leap off the exploding balloon.

"Team Rocket's blasting off again!" the trio shouted as they were hurled into the distance.

As they flew through the air Jessie suddenly pointed. "Hey, look! It's the twerps!"

Sure enough, the Pokémon team were standing around in a clearing, arguing. Pikachu looked very bored.

"This calls for a new plan," Jessie announced as they continued their unscheduled flight.

Wing was falling headfirst, but the girl could only grin, knowing Sparks to be coming up behind her.

The little electric-type was moving faster than Wing, and as she reached her, grabbed onto her shoe, beginning to pull back. "Sparkaachuu!" she shouted once more.

A pair of massively long, brown-and-white wings snapped out from her back, emerging from the hidden hollows in her back made to hide them, and beginning to flap strongly. Wing found herself slowing, being hung in midair by a Pokémon not even two feet tall. She hit the ground lightly and lay there for a minute, still grinning like a maniac.

Wing sat up and brushed the leaves out of her hair. "Thanks, Sparks."

"Sparkachu!" her Pokémon announced cheerfully, folding her feathery wings again. They tucked themselves neatly into the niches in her back, hiding them from view until they were later needed and creating the illusion of two brownish 'D' shapes on her back in place of Pikachu stripes.

Wing picked herself up and checked her Pokémon over. "Bunch of weirdoes," she muttered crossly, dusting herself off.

She began to limp back towards the clearing where she'd left her gear, wincing at every step unsupported by her staff, and at the same time, a feeling of something long forgotten flickered inside her, and she pulled out a battered Pokédex.

It flicked open smoothly and Wing pressed a few buttons in sequence. A picture of a small electric-type Pokémon appeared on the screen. It was quite small, slightly confused-looking, and staring inquisitively at the camera. The tips of its ears, covered in black fur, were shaped like a Pikachu's, but the colouring was shaped more like that of a Pichu. Its tail was tapered to a razor of a lightning bolt, shaped more like a Raichu's tail than a Pikachu's. The stripes on its back, only just visible from the angle the photo had been taken at, were non-existent, and its back looked slightly concave and too thin. Stubby brown and white streaked wings spread from its shoulders, slightly crooked and clumsy-looking.

The Pokédex's voice piped up, still strong after nine years of use. "Sparkachu. The Flying Mouse Pokémon. Sparkachu is a strange Pokémon that appears to be a part of the Pikachu evolutionary family. Its wings are more powerful than they look, and can be used as weapons, often in more than the traditional Steel Wing and Wing Attacks. Its various electrical attacks are strong enough to short out a small city, and it can charge and hold as many volts as a battery four times its size. It is uncertain how this Pokémon originated, and there is only one in captivity."

"Yeah, you," Wing whispered to her Sparkachu.

Something made her press another button, and the dex's voice rang out once more. "This Pokédex belongs to Wing Benden, who first won the Johto League and defeated the Johto Elite Four when she was twelve. A year later she took on and defeated the Indigo League and Kanto Elite Four, and soon afterwards defeated the Hoenn League."

Wing shook her head gently. "I did so much when I was still so young," she murmured, snapping the Pokédex shut before it could read her the autobiography she knew by heart.

She picked up her gear and began to limp off on the trail she'd been walking before her leg had started to bother her and started this whole ruckus. She didn't like to stay in one place for too long.

Sparks trotted along beside her, content for now. The trouble that followed them had dropped back a few paces. Sparks was the only Pokémon Wing kept with her. With only one it could be tough to survive, but if she had any others, the Teams who sought her would have more leverage.

_I can't stand still, but I can't run forever. It's too dangerous for me to stop. I have to think of everything that could go wrong. I have to expect the worst out of life._

_Because of the path destiny chose, it's all I'll ever get._

_Because of the path destiny chose, I'm one of the best. Of the best._

_Because of the path_** I**_ chose, my Pokémon aren't safe if they're with me. So I only take Sparks with me, and I'd prefer it if she was even safe. Even though my other Pokémon are upset at being left behind, it's better than the alternative._

It was her destiny to do this.

It was her destiny to be the strongest Pokémon Master of them all.

Her thoughts echoed mockingly. She was the best of the best, and she was running from the entire world, and her own mind.

Wing Benden, a Pokémon Master at twelve.

Wing Benden, the Master of three Leagues by fourteen.

Wing Benden, an international hero.

Wing Benden, missing, presumed dead.

Wing Benden, the top of the list on Team Rocket, Team Magma and Team Aqua's Most Wanted by fifteen.

Wing Benden, almost murdered at sixteen, who struck back and saved the world one last time.

Wing Benden, the eighteen year old no one could find.

_Mess with me, and I'll mess back._


	2. Cities Past

This chapter was officially rewritten by Twin2 on 30-9-07.

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**Two: Cities Past**

24th May, spring

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Wing topped a rise and paused, one hand on her staff and the other keeping light pressure on her Sparkachu, sitting on her shoulder (and pulling her ear).

For a few minutes the pair just stood there looking out over the panorama of the city, before Wing finally recognised it. "Rustboro," she said quietly. "Rustboro City." The Master was about to turn away, find another track that would lead her back to the middle of nowhere, but Sparks gave a sharp yank on her ear, complete with a series of presumably rude words shouted into said ear.

"Ow!" Wing growled, grabbing her Pokémon's ear and tugging gently. "That hurts, you know!"

"Spark, sparkachu! Chu!" The little electric type wriggled free and let go of her Master, scrambling over her bag and taking hold of one of the zippers. She slid down the side, holding the zip like one would if you were abseiling, and unzipped it, walking down the side of Wing's backpack like a cliff.

About a dozen bottles spilled out – it was Wing's first aid kit side of the bag. She swore and knelt to pick them up. "Sparks, don't do that! Sheesh, if you want to abseil so bad I'll take you to the Rustboro cliffs and throw you off!"

The little Pokémon grabbed one of the bottles and shook it wildly, pointing at the label and exclaiming furiously. Wing snatched it off her before she could hurt herself and glanced at it, realising that a) the bottle was an Antidote, and b) it was empty. Wing raised one eyebrow and checked all the others.

"Wow," the Master mused, sitting back. "I had no idea we were so low." There were only two doses of Antidote left and one of Paralyse Heal. She was out of Burn Heals and Awakenings entirely, and also the blue liquid blend she always used for general injuries was way low.

"Was that why you wanted me to go into town?"

Sparks nodded vehemently, exclaiming, "Spark chu ka ka sparka!"

Wing grinned, a little sheepishly. "I can stock up on the regular stuff here, but for the restorative, I'll have to visit Littleroot – that's where Yakima lives. But Rustboro will do for most of it."

So they made an unscheduled stop in the little city, home of Roxanne, the Rock-loving honours student. _Unscheduled,_ Wing thought dryly as she walked down the hill, _everything I do is unscheduled. Why make plans when you can breeze through everything just fine? Just…_ She chuckled. _Just wing it._

The Master considered checking into the Pokémon Centre, but decided it'd be better for her to just do what she came in to do and leave again, as fast as she could go.

As she walked down the concreted path towards the Pokémart, Wing shivered, shaking her head with discomfort. Cities always seemed so cold to her. Cold and lifeless, dead. There were always emotions, but they were usually of anger, depression, betrayal. There was something in cities that Wing had never been able to stand. The bigger they were, the worse they were.

She found the Pokémart after trying a few streets: it had been a long time since she was in Rustboro. She walked in and limped down the aisles, picking up ten of each of the items she was out of and enough to make a full ten of the ones she wasn't. Wing did not like running out of first aid kit supplies. Sparks occasionally pointed out something she'd missed, but mostly just sat silently on Wing's head. The little electric Pokémon was usually one of few words, unless she'd raided the berry blends Wing liked to make.

The blends were various berries ground to powders and mixed with other types. They could be used as a restorative, depending on the berries used, or just to spruce up food or as a treat. Sparks liked the spicy mixes, so much that Wing had to use Pokémon-proof tops on the jars she kept the stuff in, as too much of it made Sparks go hyper. And with an electric-type, that's really bad. Usually the Master would just add a little to Sparks's food to make it more interesting, but Sparks liked to add water and drink the entire jar.

Which annoyed Wing to no end.

The tiles radiated cold under her sneakered feet. Wing shuddered again, reminded of why she hated cities, and hurried on.

It didn't take long for her to get everything she needed: she had been in Pokémarts more times than your average genius could count to. But despite her attempts at secrecy (pulling her long black hair under her bandana, spread into a Hoenn-style bandana-hat thing, not knocking anything over, trying not to limp in spite of her throbbing leg) she was eye-catching. Wing was too confident: being a Master of three different leagues did that to you. Her step was too strong and measured, her eyes too knowing, and her movements too fluid in any situation, in spite of any injuries.

She felt a boy's eyes on her as she paid out the 7600 Pokédollars needed to buy all of her supplies. It was easy for her to pay: as a Master, you earned a pretty penny competing in the Leagues, with millions of Pokédollars' worth of purses going out to the finalists, let alone the winner. She only needed the cash she had stored eons ago from her old battles for her supplies these days, and you could often make do with berries or Wing's stronger berry powders.

She just liked to be prepared.

_Which is odd, really_, she mused, coming out of the store and stacking her new items into her first aid kit. _I never like to plan anything, because I just know it'll turn out wrong, but I'll at least come prepared for it to go wrong. Even when the plan wasn't mine and I told them not to plan._

Speaking of never planning…

"I want to visit Roxanne," Wing decided. "It's been ages since I saw her. I mean, since we're here. Celebi knows when we'll next be in contact with anyone." Her hand strayed towards a side pocket of her bag, but Wing shook off that particular impulse and stepped forwards down the paved roads.

Her feet remembered this way, all too well. Her team had had a lot of trouble with Roxanne… The rock-types she used could deal some serious damage to the dual-type Sparkachu (electric and flying), and Wing had been trying to stay undercover at the time. She hadn't been_ particularly_ famous when completing the Hoenn League, but… the attention she did get annoyed her.

Better to be someone else.

Wing entered the darkened gym silently, not even her staff making sounds on the floor. Even her limp couldn't stop her from being as quiet as possible: an incident when she was younger, and clumsier, had led Wing to decide that maybe balance _was _a good idea in that it stopped you from making so much noise that you got found out and shot at.

An occupational hazard of being a troublemaking Master.

However, not even all the silence in the world could stop the Gym's motion detectors picking her up and flashing all of the lights on. The pupils in Wing's eyes immediately snapped to the size of pinpricks, although she didn't cover them or yelp in surprise. This had happened so many times before. Every visit to every gym was faintly tickling her memory, even the faded ones where she had lost the challenges. Every memory that was _not_ a loss showed up that much more vividly, even as time picked away at the clarity.

But as always, the present was more important than the past for the moment, and Wing glanced around easily, regarding the empty gym with something approaching boredom while Sparks shook her head irritably. She disliked the sudden changes in light the gyms created, and Wing put up a hand to scratch under her chin, a sympathetic gesture, even though the lights didn't bother the Master as much as they'd used to.

"Who goes there?" said a voice that sounded about as bored as Wing looked. "If it's another challenger, I feel obliged to warn you, I'm hot, I'm tired and I'm annoyed, so if you want a fight you're going to get one." A shadowy figure detached itself from the stands at the opposite end of the arena and moved resignedly to take up the Gym Leader's position.

Wing snorted, a smile fighting its way onto her face. "Roxanne, the last time we battled, you told me to never do it again because you wanted to have a few shreds of dignity left to cling to."

There was a short pause while the shadow digested this information, before she found her voice again to say, "Wing? Is that you down there?"

"The one and only," Wing said, cocking one eyebrow and tilting her head to the side in a taunting way that made many people want to shoot her. Only a handful had ever tried it.

Roxanne wasn't one of them, and the two sat down in the stands, Sparks having detached herself from Wing's ear to inspect the fighting arena. Wing kept half an eye on her, smirking sardonically. Always ready for anything.

The leader of the gym grinned, leaning back and crossing her ankles. "Wow, Wing, it's been absolutely eons since I saw you! What've you been up to? You haven't been on active duty, or else the newspapers would've been, too."

It took Wing a minute to process what Roxanne had said: she tended to speak very fast when she was excited, like now. "Roxanne, I'm never on 'active duty'. I work for no one but myself, and those guys really needed to get their asses kicked. I just beat the tar out of anyone who thought it'd be a good idea to hurt Pokémon. How's the Gym doing?"

"Well, the gym is going fine, but there's been a massive influx of challengers," Roxanne said, her voice slowing down to what could be called normal. "Ever since the Trainer's School got put in… I don't know what they teach them there, but it's more theory than battle experience, and it really shows. It's hard to beat them without thrashing them into apathy."

Wing winced, but there was a bitter twist to her smirk. "I take it you're bored?"

"Yeah. Ooooo yeah. Not bored enough to take you on in a fight, though," the gym Leader added swiftly, raising one hand in a pacifying motion. Sparks trotted up to them and sat on Wing's foot, prodding her leg. Wing ignored her.

"I don't battle anymore, anyway. Not unless it's an emergency. I just can't ask Sparks to hurt herself for me; it doesn't feel right. We stay in training, but I haven't battled against another Trainer in months." Sparks pinched her leg sharply, demanding, "Sparka ka chuka ka sparkachu!"

Wing flinched at the tight nip and glared at the electric-type with annoyance. "Do you have a problem with me today or something?" she demanded. "First you nearly rip my ear off, then you dump my first aid kit all over the floor, _then _you try to eat a bottle of sand, and now you're trying to tear my leg open! What did I do?!"

Sparks pointed one thumb over her shoulder at the door, ignoring her Master's rant. "Cha."

The pair glanced over and Wing saw a shadow against the glass inserts of the doors, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to focus past the frosted patterning on the glass. It didn't work.

The Gym doors banged open, revealing a kid of maybe eleven years wearing a blue and red cap with a red T-shirt, and the Leader sighed. "Excuse me," she said. "We have another numbskull. Want to watch?"

"Why not?" said Wing cheerfully, lacing her hands behind her head and leaning back casually. As far as she could read his movements, the boy was no threat. His attention was glued on Roxanne, not the strange girl she'd been talking to with a Pikachu sitting on her foot.

Roxanne moved back to her post, shoulders slightly slumped. "Who wishes to challenge me?"

"It is I, Cray of Rustboro!" The boy stepped forward, brown hair bobbing from underneath the cap.

"Not you again!" Roxanne groaned. "Cray, have you improved since the last time I beat you? Or the time before that?"

The boy nodded energetically, a determined gleam in his eye, already reaching for a Pokéball. "Yes! I'm loads better since last time."

"This is a one-on-one match! Each Trainer can use two Pokémon! Ready! Fight!" cried the announcer. Wing jumped, having forgotten that he had no doubt been waiting for the chance to referee a match.

"Let's go, Geodude!" Roxanne shouted, tossing her Pokéball out. In a burst of white light, her rock Pokémon leaped out.

"Geodude!" it said.

"Mudkip, let's go!" called the challenger.

Wing sat back and watched the match. _The kid's got type smarts,_ she thought as the Mudkip loosed a Water Gun. She cocked her head slowly, regarding the situation with care. _Type smarts, maybe. But does he have the strength?_

"Geodude, Rollout!"

"Mudkip, get out of the way!"

Despite the Pokémon's best attempts, the Mudkip was struck a glancing blow by the Geodude and paused to shake its aching head. It was slammed full-tilt by the Geodude on its next run.

"Mudkip, return!" the boy snarled. The Mudkip turned into a stream of red light and vanished into its Pokéball. "Corphish, let's go!"

Wing shook her head. Water-type or not, Corphish weren't very agile, and in a rock-type fight it was often agility that gave you the upper hand. The fairly nimble Mudkip hadn't stood much of a chance: it hadn't been fast enough. The Corphish… well, it depended how it had been trained.

_Not with much strategy,_ she concluded later. Even with the Corphish's Bubble Attack and Water Gun, which defeated the Geodude, Roxanne's Nosepass had too much stamina. In minutes the challenger was beaten.

"Corphish is unable to battle! Leader Roxanne wins!"

Wing stood up and stretched, careful not to disturb Sparks or tug on her damaged leg. "If that's what you get every day, I bet you're bored," she remarked to Roxanne.

The Leader nodded glumly. "It's rather tiresome."

"Hey you!"

Wing looked up, amused by the sight of the challenger glaring at her, and he stuck out his tongue, even red-faced with shame at yet another defeat. "What?"

"You shouldn't be so snobby! I bet you haven't even beaten Roxanne! You couldn't beat a Rocket grunt!" The kid scowled angrily. "You're just a girl!" The last word had the singsong tint that had always roused Wing's temper in the past, and Roxanne edged to the side.

Wing's temper did not fail to meet expectations. The Master stiffened, a blend of controlled rage and remembered hate flashing over her features as her eyes narrowed dangerously before she could wipe the expression away and hiss, "You don't have a clue who I've beaten, kid, and I suggest you shut your trap before I shut it for you."

"Well I say you should battle me! Prove you're as good as you say!" The boy smirked, obviously thinking that Wing would never agree to fight.

And, Wing thought with a twinge, she wouldn't. She couldn't ask Sparks to finish a fight she'd started. Even when she hadn't really started it at all.

Instead she called, "I don't battle anymore. But keep it up and I'll smack you into next week myself!"

The kid sneered, even more confident now that he knew Wing wouldn't fight. "You're just chicken! You're scared I'll beat you!"

Wing couldn't help it. She cracked up laughing. She had to lean fully on her staff to stay upright, and even then she was doubled over, laughing as if she'd never stop. Cray stood there getting redder and redder and angrier and angrier before yelling, "You're chicken! Chicken!"

Wing managed to choke her laughter back. In seconds she was under control once more, her face deadly serious. "I fear no one."

But now he'd gotten Sparks fired up, too. She leaped from her position at Wing's feet and sparked dangerously, shouting fiercely, "Spark sparka sparkachu kachu!" She darted onto the battlefield and let off a shot of electricity straight up into the air, where it formed a twisting rope of light before sparking out: her personal challenge.

Wing frowned slightly, a bare twitch of muscles. "You want to fight? Ecruteak and the raid meant nothing to you?"

Sparks looked back over her shoulder and said levelly, "Sparkachu sparka ka chu. Spark, chu sparka." The mouse looked back at Cray, eyes dark with anger.

The Master blinked unsteadily for a few seconds, before slowly grinning. She strode past the Rustboro leader, leaning on her staff, and said, "Alright, kid. Sparks seems to have taken particularly against you, and I'm all for watching her beat the heck out of whatever Pokémon you happen to send out," she said, calmly and easily. She was… happy. Battling was Wing's forte, her specialty, the place in the world reserved for her. It was only natural for her to become a Master.

Battling struck a chord in her heart, and as Cray pulled another Pokéball from his belt, Wing was more content than she had been in a long while. There was always a thrill in this, and her Pokémon loved it as well. Proving themselves as the best.

"One-on-one fight, one Pokémon each sound fair to you, kid?" the Master barked, feeling happy and confident, back in her element. As Cray nodded, she asked, "Roxanne, care to referee?"

"Sounds like fun," the Gym Leader agreed, stepping onto the side of the field with a grin. "Just try not to hit me. Alright! This is a one-on-one Pokémon battle, with one Pokémon being used by each Trainer! Ready? Begin!"

"Nincada, I choose you!" Cray shouted, flinging a red and white Pokéball onto the field. The bug-like ground and bug combo emerged, chattering with interest at its surroundings.

"Sparks, you're on!" Wing called, smiling as her Sparkachu bounced energetically on a rock, stretching out her muscles in exaggerated moves.

"Nincada, use Dig!" Cray demanded, having already guessed at Sparks' main weakness. If not for her dual flying type, he would have been right.

"Sparks, Agility," said Wing, not loudly, knowing that Sparks would pick it up easily and she'd probably do this on her own anyway: they had a specific routine to deal with ground-types.

The Nincada scuttled underground, digging a hole in the dirt of the arena and vanishing into it, and Sparks began to zigzag around the rocks, gathering speed as she zoomed about. "Figure eight," said Wing, directing a pattern to the speed, and Sparks altered her path accordingly to run in the shape of the number.

"Nincada, come up underneath it and attack!"

Wing was unconcerned, instead calling out, "One, two, JUMP!"

The Sparkachu, waiting for the order, leaped into the air, just ahead of the Nincada's thrashing claws as it came up beneath where she would have been in another half-second's time. "Rebound Quick Attack! Now!" Sparks landed on a rock and pushed off, bouncing off it, and came flying back at the Nincada. She hit it head on.

Sparks bounced away again, doing an easy flip in midair to land on her feet as she'd done so many times before. The Nincada collapsed where it stood.

"Nincada is unable to battle!" Roxanne announced, raising the arm closest to Wing to clearly indicate the victor. "Sparks wins!"

Wing smiled as Sparks trotted over to her with a grin firmly in place, then winced as pain exploded in her head. "How hard did you hit that thing?!" she muttered, gripping her head with one hand. Sparks was rubbing her own cranium sheepishly, flinching at the shared pain.

Cray had already stormed out, furious over his second defeat in as many minutes. Roxanne asked Wing gently, "Are you alright, there? What'd you do to your head?"

Wing smiled again, ignoring the pain and dropping her hand. "It's nothing, don't worry. But I'd better get Sparks checked out at the Pokémon Centre, make sure she didn't sprain anything, you know?"

Walking down the cold street again, Wing winced once more and gently rubbed her Sparkachu's back, avoiding the aching head. "I said Quick Attack, not Skull Bash," she said teasingly.

This was something else that set Wing apart from every other Trainer in the world: she felt her Pokémon's pain. If they got injured, she knew it, and if they got upset, then she would know. Her Pokémon couldn't hide secrets from the young Master: she was bound to them uniquely.

Sparks had been the first one the bond had ever manifested with, and it was the one that had tied them together the most strongly, Wing mused. Professor Cedar had wanted to study Sparks, investigate this new breed of Pokémon, but the two of them, Trainer and Pokémon, both got sick whenever they were separated by more than a kilometre. Deadly sick. So Professor Cedar gave it up, instead asking the nine-year-old Wing to note down the electric/flying type's behaviour.

They made it to the Pokémon Centre without any mishaps, and Wing had to force herself to go inside, reminding herself that _buildings are inanimate. They will not eat me._

"Hello, Nurse Joy," she said placidly to the pink-haired woman at the desk. "Could you check Sparks for me? She was testing out her Quick Attack for the first time in a while, and she hit something head on. Now she has a headache, and I'd like to know it's not anything too serious."

Nurse Joy's gentle hands were already probing the mouse's head, ignoring Sparks' squeaks of annoyance whenever she touched her ears. "It looks as if there's no serious damage. It shouldn't even bruise, provided she doesn't hit it again."

"That's good," said Wing with relief. "You'd think she wanted a concussion, the way she races around. Right, Sparks?" Sparks stuck out her tongue: it was the only answer she was going to get.

Wing watched silently as Nurse Joy checked Sparks carefully, the first checkup she'd had in a long while, wrapped up in her own thoughts. _We were ambushed by Team Rocket in the forest just yesterday. After their defeat in Ecruteak, I thought Team Rocket had disbanded. We were ambushed in the forest earlier, but they weren't experts at all; that was no problem. _She sighed._ I'd hoped not to have to battle again, but with Team Rocket on the rise, not to mention Aqua and Magma…_ Then she grinned. _Then again, I think I've missed beating the tar out of evildoers._

_Not to mention the fact that I'm a battler at heart._

Sparks was handed over again, along with an ever-cheerful smile. Wing went and sat down on one of the chairs in the lobby and gave Sparks an apple, biting into a second one and staring blankly out the glass doors. "You're feeling better, now." It wasn't a question: Wing's own headache was abating. "How long until you think we can start moving again? You know I hate staying put for too long."

Sparks shrugged. "Spark sparkachu chu, spark. Chaa?" She waved one hand in a broad motion, like the sun rising and setting in a full circle.

"I guess overnight wouldn't be too bad. I mean, I have to get used to cities sooner or later." Wing leaned back in her chair with a sigh, her staff balanced on her knees. "Although I could definitely get used to the chairs. This beats sharp rocks and sticks any day."

"There she is! The girl who beat me!"

Wing groaned quietly and turned around to face the new arrivals, levelling her dark-eyed glare on the smaller of the two. "Time was, people took their wins or losses and left, rather than trying to set their elder brothers on them," she informed Cray sternly. Sparks was rolling on the floor with suppressed laughter.

"She beat me, Dennis!" Cray whined, and now Wing had to fight laughter as he tugged on his brother's shirt, the picture of a whinging kid. "You beat her good!"

"Look, girlie," said the older boy wearily. "I don't really want to fight you. But Mom will get up me for not defending my little brother, so I have to."

Wing snorted with laughter, unable to hold it back any longer. "Defend him?! He insulted me, and I defeated him in a Pokémon battle. You've got nothing to do with this at all." She rubbed Sparks' ears gently, at the very base, the one spot she would let anyone touch her ears. "I will not battle."

"Dennis" sighed. "Whatever, kid. I guess your Pokémon'd be hurt after a scrap with my bro, but fight with another. I do not want to fight with Mom."

"Sparks is the only Pokémon with me," Wing growled. "And I will not fight you."

"See!? I told you she was a coward!" The little boy stuck out his tongue.

Wing's and Sparks's eyes narrowed. The Master turned to her Pokémon. "What do you say, Sparks?" Wing asked. "One more round?"

The Sparkachu nodded, a grim smile in place. "Chu! Sparka!"

Dennis moaned, his shoulders slumping. "Great. I have to beat up a girlie beginner."

Wing bared her teeth and bounded to her feet, facing both boys directly. To a Master, 'beginner' was a serious insult, along with 'amateur'. "_Never _call me a beginner!" she barked sharply. The sudden change in attitude startled everyone within hearing range – which was quite a way. "Look, buddy, I only carry one Pokémon because it's safer for all of them. I am no beginner. You want a fight? You found one!" She paused. "And my name is not "girlie". I am Wing." She turned on her heel and stalked outside. Sparks followed, waving her tail jauntily.

The boy and his little brother were shocked. "Wing…" Dennis muttered. He went pale. Very pale. "Holy mother of Mew, Cray, what have you gotten me into?"

Wing stood outside, waiting, her staff held loosely in her left hand. Her Sparkachu stood at her side, cheeks sparking randomly. "Man, that was a bit of temper I haven't had to use for a while," the girl sighed. "But I just couldn't take that. Beginner?! Hah!" The Pokémon beside her patted her leg reassuringly as the new challenger came out, looking, unsurprisingly, as white as a sheet.

Roxanne came jogging up to them, panting, "Wing, I just remembered–" she broke off seeing the two at opposite ends of an imaginary arena. "Groan. What did you do this time?"

Wing shrugged. "Care to referee? Unless you do it we'll have no ref at all."

Roxanne sighed. "Can't leave you alone for more than a minute without you getting into trouble. Alright. This is a one-on-one battle between Wing and Dennis! Each trainer may use one Pokémon. Ready? Begin!"

"Haunter, come on out!" Dennis called. The ghost Pokémon floated in front of him and rudely poked its tongue out. "Shadow Punch!"

"Sparks, catch it!" Wing called.

The Sparkachu grabbed the fist that the Haunter swung. The force shoved her backwards, her heels dragging, but didn't cause any damage.

"Thundershock, now!" Wing called, keeping her face blank although she was _dying _to smirk.

The light electrical attack pulsed through the Haunter: it screeched in shock and reeled back. Sparks let go of its fist.

Wing grinned, unable to hold it back this time. _She's tougher than she looks._

"Haunter, use Haze!"

The brackish mist flew out of the Haunter's mouth, covering the whole battle field in a swathe of haze. Most people would have immediately had to panic or blow the mist away, but not Wing and her Pokémon.

"Shut your eyes, Sparks. Listen for its breathing," Wing called. "Listen closely. Have you got a lock?" There was an affirmative 'Sparka!' and she continued, "Now! Use Shockwave!"

The electrical attack lit up the black mist from the inside, giving watchers from the Pokémon Centre a shadowy glimpse of what was happening: the Sparkachu standing with its eyes shut, firing a Shockwave to her left, directly at the Haunter.

There was a small explosion. As the dust and the last of the haze cleared, it showed the knocked out Haunter, and the Sparkachu, still standing in the same position. She lowered the hand she had used to direct her attack, then turned and grinned at Wing.

"Haunter is unable to battle! The victor is Wing!" Roxanne called, lifting the hand closest to the girl.

"Nice shot, Sparks," the girl remarked. The Pokémon clambered onto the arm that she wasn't using to hold her staff. "And you, Dennis – good fight." She smiled, nodded, and then spun on her heel and walked back into the Centre.

Dennis recalled his Haunter, then turned on his little brother. "Cray, what were you thinking?!"

"But she –"

"Cray, that was Wing Benden! She's a Pokémon Master! You insulted her and forced her to fight! She hasn't even been _seen_ for two years, and you made me fight her?!"

"Wing Benden?" the kid asked, shocked comprehension dawning.

"Yes, Wing Benden!" He began to storm off, presumably home. "You little idiot!"

Back inside the Centre, Wing was suddenly surrounded by Trainers eager to try their hand against a Pokémon Master, and she was reminded of yet another reason she hated cities: too many idiots.

"Battle me!" one shouted. "I'm the best in my whole home town!"

"That's nothing!" another shouted. "I've beaten all eight Gym Leaders! Try fighting me! I'm way tougher!"

"Get the hell out of my way," Wing snapped, trying to keep a leash on her temper and failing. "I will not fight any of you morons!"

One guy was stupid enough to grab her arm. "Come on, Wing!" he whined. "We just want to test ourselves –"

The rest of his sentence was broken off when Wing grabbed his arm and flipped him over her head onto his back. "I will not fight you," she snarled. "And if the rest of you want to survive the night, back off!" She stormed through the crowd of trainers, which now opened before her as they remembered her infamous bad temper.

It took a lot of convincing for her to stay the night in the Pokémon Centre, but the clincher was Sparks pointing out the nice, soft, warm bed rather than hard ground to sleep on, so in the end, the Master stayed, sleeping on a proper bed for what felt like (and probably was) the first time in years.

In the morning Wing rose before dawn and carried her still-sleepy Sparkachu out of the town, not relaxing until the trees completely blocked all sign of Rustboro. She had managed to avoid all of the Trainers on her way out, so no one would know she had left until they woke up and went barging into her empty room, hoping to make an early challenge.

But just like always, she was one step ahead.

"Those were our first real battles in ages," Wing told the dozing Sparks. "I just can't risk you out there on the field. Whatever you feel, I feel, so I know exactly how much you suffer. And it's no good saying I overreact – I always know exactly what's going on. It's a part of why I stopped battling," she added, talking more to herself than her Pokémon now. "I felt every blow, and I felt every emotion. Your bond was always the strongest, and none of the others was as clear-cut, thank goodness."

She paused to navigate a particularly rocky piece of trail. "But… I guess we've both missed battling," she admitted. "Even though those two weren't much of one, we like the challenge. It's why we make such a good team, hey?"

Sparks gave an affirmative grunt, finally starting to wake up.

"Well then, I suppose a battle every now and then wouldn't be so bad," Wing said, a slight tease in her voice.

Sparks came fully awake at this, insisting, "Sparka! Kachu chuspark! Sparkachaa!"

"Yeah," Wing agreed, hoping she was getting the right message. "We're battlers, now and forever. It'd be a shame to let it go to waste."

Sparks nodded. "Sparkachu."


	3. Triple Trouble

This chapter was officially rewritten by Twin2 on 19-10-07.

I don't own Pokémon, for some weird reason; nor do I own the song in this chapter. If this situation changes I'll let you know.

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**Three: Triple Trouble**

May 25th, spring

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Wing crossed her eyes and glared at Sparks, who was, for reasons unknown, tap-dancing on her head. "Where do you get the energy?" she demanded.

"Spark sparka chu!" was the quick reply, followed by Sparks tapping her lightly between the eyes with her tail.

"Although, admittedly, you're not the one walking this cursed trail!" the Master added with a growl, vaulting over another large rock that she couldn't be bothered to walk around. Sparks did a handstand, and Wing couldn't help laughing. It felt good to be back on the road with a purpose, even if that purpose was just to get to Littleroot and buy some restorative from Yakima.

But from the snippets of gossip and other information she'd picked up, both from her visit to Rustboro and her encounter with the Rocket goons, Team Aqua and Team Magma were on the rise, and Team Rocket was as unstoppable as ever. Firmly established in almost every region except Sinnoh, Fiore and Orre, as far as she knew, and those regions had their own problems.

Wing frowned. After all this time, they were back and they were strong. Ecruteak was just the beginning.

Her frown deepened as she ignored Sparks beginning to abseil down her back, using her calf-length plait as a rope. Even her hometown, Blackthorn, hadn't remained untouched by Team Rocket, being put under siege twice until they were fought off. Azalea Town was attacked twice and had to be put under lockdown. Goldenrod City was attacked only once since she could remember, when they were trying to take over the Radio Tower, but an irritated Wing (a young Trainer at the time) had put a stop to that. Olivine City they tried to take over for the port. Cianwood was left alone: Chuck and the other Trainers at his Gym were too powerful, and the city itself too small for them to bother with. Cherrygrove and Newbark they had basically ignored: they were far too small. Ecruteak… the less said on the home of the ghosts the better – that fight had been bitter as a winter blizzard. Mahogany was the same, but the fight had been less bloody; Pryce had seen to that. Violet City had been investigated, but discarded when several young Trainers fought back, deeming it to be a useless place anyway. But Blackthorn…

Blackthorn was where the last Gym Leader of Johto lived, along with a den full of powerful wild dragons. It was worth the fight, or so they'd thought, until a Pokémon Master coming home after several years of training got involved and kicked their collective rear back to Kanto. Temporarily.

But that was all in the past. Now, Wing was back on the road, and as Sparks climbed back up onto her shoulder, Wing mused to her, "I've missed this. Travelling out on the roads, just waiting for the next score of bandits who think you'll be easy prey so you can beat the stuffing out of them." Strange, considering her previous thoughts, but Wing Benden was a match for anyone who thought to take her on, in any terrain. Sparks leaped into the trees overhead and clambered through the branches. "Funny. We used to get attacked all the time," Wing deliberated. "Now, we only get harassed by the stupidest of grunts. That's just boring. Do I have to search out the bosses of the corporations to get some action?" She was only half-joking. Amazing, how fast Wing's old persona resurfaced once she got a bit of motivation.

There was a sudden snapping crack from just behind her and Wing whipped around, her staff already turning up to block any incoming blows, but all she saw was Sparks sitting on a broken branch, looking somewhat sheepish.

"And here I was, all prepared for a bandit attack," she sighed, finding herself more disappointed than one would expect.

There was a tingle on the back of her neck, Wing's instincts warning her that she was being watched; but whoever it was didn't reveal themselves, and Wing walked on through the Petalburg Woods without meeting another soul. It was beginning to get dark when she finally chose to stop in a clearing that would suit her for a campsite.

"I guess maybe I'm just being nervy," she confessed to Sparks. "I'm not used to living a quiet life like this…" She broke off as a far-off shriek caught her attention. "Did you hear that?"

She didn't even have to wait for an answer. The two of them immediately took off through the forest again, bolting towards the source of the distressed cries of a Pokémon in pain.

Wing and her Sparkachu charged into another clearing, barging into a pair of men clothed in the black uniform of Team Rocket grunts and holding hessian sacks, and a pair of Mightyena. With what could only be described as a roar the Master sprang between them and their quarry: a trio of terrified Eevee and a dead Jolteon, probably their parent. Although it had been killed by a sharp blow to the back of the head its chest and sides were covered in deep, still feebly bleeding slashes: the marks of an ugly fight.

"Back off," Wing snarled, her body language aggressive and her stance well-balanced, taking a care for her fiercely aching leg, but otherwise ignoring it. It wouldn't hamper her even if this came to a fight. The three Eevee hid themselves in caverns created by tree roots at her back as she spoke, and Sparks was crackling with electricity, just waiting for a chance to discharge it. "These Eevee will not become your _slaves, _not today, not ever!"

One of the men sniggered in a way that was guaranteed to light a fire under her temper. "Lookie, little girl," he drawled, and Wing bared her teeth at the 'little' prod, "we don't want to have to hurt you, unnecessarily, like. So's if you knows what's good for you, you'll be turnin' back around and forgettin' that we even exist."

Wing's canines were bared in a snarl. "Like hell would you know what's good for me," she hissed. "I know where I stand: between you and three Eevee. And guess what? I ain't moving."

The second man spat on the ground, obviously bored. Wing's blood boiled as he rumbled, "Just kill the brat and get this over with. It's not like she'd put up much of a fight." _I'll show you a fight!_

"Sparks, Thunderbolt," she ordered crisply, and the little mouse at her side hurled the electricity at the two Mightyena who stood, drooling, in the middle of the battlefield. Mind you, the Sparkachu's powerful attack woke them up plenty.

However, they were Rocket Pokémon: they were strong. The Thunderbolt, spread between the two of them like that, didn't have the power to knock them out fully. But they were hurt. Wing allowed herself to widen the snarling grin she still wore, even as she spun her staff expertly over the back of one hand. "I'm gonna cause you more trouble than you can imagine," she hissed.

"Seviper! Ekans! Grimer!"

"Swalot! Koffing! Ariados!"

Evidently the Rockets didn't want to get messed with. "Use Poison Sting on the kid," the men ordered, and while most Trainers would have gasped in shock at such a move, Wing's grin didn't even fade as the venomous shards pierced her chest and stomach.

Her eyes flashed with something that was a cross between faint annoyance and glee even as her legs buckled underneath her and she had to lean very heavily on her staff so as not to do a faceplant in the dirt. The Master wasn't about to move, even as the sneaking ache of the poison started to take its toll.

"That all you got?" she snarled, ignoring a thin trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.

The second man grinned, a harsh, twisted parody of amusement. "We'll show you what we got."

Suddenly Wing was standing down the two weakened Mightyena, the Seviper, a Venomoth, the Ariados, the Grimer, the Koffing, the Ekans, two Nidorino, the Swalot and a Cubone. She squared her shoulders, tightening her grip on her staff, and shouting, "You'll have to do better than that!"

"Must you do this every time we meet?" someone shouted cheekily from overhead. "I'll still bail you out, but it's getting stale. Shiaa, Kayna, Argyro, Tyra! Let's move!" A familiar Vulpix, Grovyle, Kirlia and Zangoose erupted as beams of white light from overhead and formed solidly on the ground. As a teenage boy who looked about sixteen and Wing knew to be nineteen dropped from the trees overhead she laughed: a proper laugh, not sardonic, not cynical, not false; her first in a long while.

"Rowan, my old friend, it's been a while," she teased faintly, standing a little straighter.

"Not long enough for you to break your suicidal habits," he shot back, mock-glaring. "I believe the score is you: seven and me: four, counting this. I'm catching up."

"Not if I know you," she retorted. "You'll need your butt saved again by the end of the week. Sparks, Thunderbolt, again!"

The boy smirked a little and called, "Shiaa, Ariados, Flamethrower!"

Even as their Pokémon, fighting five on twelve, started to battle and evened the odds in seconds, the boy Wing had called Rowan carefully gripped her arm at the elbow. "That was stupid, taking the poison like that," he informed her, moving out of the way of a misaimed Bonemerang. "And what were you going to do twelve on one? Take on the Pokémon yourself?"

Wing raised her eyebrows at him and Rowan groaned. "You would have, I know. I was just hoping you might have come across a bit of sense. By the way – Kayna, stop messing around!" aimed at his Grovyle, who seemed to be juggling the Koffing and the Cubone "– the tabloids seem to think you've gone recluse in the Sevii Islands."

Wing shrugged. "They were rather mistaken. Sparks, Mightyena, Slam it!" The Master was stolidly ignoring the poison still seeping through her, even as her legs, held up by sheer stubbornness and a touch of pride, gave out again, leaving her relying on Rowan and her staff to stay upright.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" he informed her irritably, blue eyes glittering with annoyance as he added, "Kayna, I said cut that out!"

"Sparks, Thunderbolt the Koffing he's juggling, that'll give him something else to think about," Wing suggested, and the attack sent the Grovyle scrambling as the gas Pokémon detonated, taking out the second Mightyena, the Cubone, and both Nidorino. "Damn, I'd forgotten how strong Selfdestruct is."

With Kayna back in the fight and four more Pokémon down it was a lot quicker, and in about thirty seconds every last one of the Rockets' Pokémon was lying on the floor. Swiftly they all turned red, evacuating the area for the safety of their Pokéballs.

The two men fell to their knees, dropping the still-empty sacks, evidently shocked at being beaten. _Having their twelve Pokémon against our all-up total of five get the crap beaten out of them was probably a shock,_ Wing observed coolly, ignoring the fact she was only just standing up herself.

"Get out of my sight," she said, steel in her voice. "And I'm sure your boss'll be elated if you let him know that Wing Benden is back in the game."

With her elegant parting comment, the two men lurched to their feet and started running. The boy who'd appeared rather just in time sighed a little and returned his Pokémon to their balls. "What a melee. Nice fight, Wing, even if Sparks was your only battler. What was it over, anyway? You moved too fast for me to see – I was flat out keeping up."

"You fought well, too Rowan," Wing said unconcernedly. Considering the poison still seeping through her one could wonder where she got the willpower. "Those two grunts had killed a Jolteon and were trying to steal the kits when I heard them shrieking and showed up to scare 'em off."

Rowan Telgar, a lifelong friend of the young Master, rolled his eyes. "And you just 'happened' to get in the firing line."

"Believe what you like," she shrugged, completely unconcerned as she let her knees fold so she could sink to the ground. Rowan, seeing it was intentional, let go of her arm. The Eevee were still huddled in the shelter of the tree roots, looking out at the pair suspiciously. Wing kept half an eye on them as she tugged a small bottle out of her pack, full of a golden liquid that she immediately poured into the cap and gulped down.

Just that one capful was enough to take care of the venom and Wing sighed. "I hate poison. Lucky I restocked yesterday." She seemed to see Rowan clearly now. "Now that I think about it, what are you doing here? Good timing, by the way."

Rowan shrugged. "Hey, you see a kid you grew up with who's saved your rear seven times and counting getting attacked for no good reason, you step in."

"Speaking of which…" Wing lowered herself a little to look into the cavernous tree roots at the young Eevee, who glared at her nervously. "They're going to take some convincing, I think. I'll have to stay put for a while." She stood up and turned her head away to hide whatever expression she was unable to fully control. "I have to bury the Jolteon."

When she got back from paying her respects to the electric Pokémon Rowan had already set up what counted as a camp for them, with a small fire chasing away the first shadows of darkness. The Eevee still huddled in their caverns, jewel-like eyes glaring distrustfully out as Wing knelt several metres away from the tree, a safe distance, and peered in, her currently ponytailed hair slipping over her shoulder and pooling in the dust. Not that she noticed, or cared.

"Why are there Eevee here?" she wondered aloud. "They're only found wild in Sinnoh, and even then they're bloody rare. What the heck are they doing in Petalburg Woods?" The Master scratched her head in bemusement and sighed, settling herself against a nearby tree, her staff within easy reach. Within minutes she was half-asleep, but Rowan knew from experience she wouldn't leave her post, or fall asleep. The occasional twitch of muscles tightening supported that theory. Sparks was already snoring a few feet away.

He checked the fire again, before walking over and crouching next to the young Master, eyeing the kits' tree. "How're you holding up?" he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to startle the Eevee.

She shrugged, a movement that was a bare twitch of the muscles in her shoulders but was easily recognisable to the other Trainer, he being used to her muted body language. "It's not so bad. We've both been in worse conditions for stupider reasons." There was a companionable, if short, silence. "What've you been up to in my absence? Skyler doing ok?"

Rowan shrugged as well, his gesture much more readable in both shoulders rising and one almost touching his ear in an exaggerated motion. "The others are all fine, and none of the ops have gone badly since…" He bit his lip. "Well, not much, you sorted out the biggest problem. By the way, in interest of your health, Professor Cedar has thrown two separate fits over your vanishing like that and has sworn to wring your neck. Half the known world thinks you're dead, and the other half reads the tabloids."

Wing winced.

Rowan grinned, reading her thoughts from the expression in her dark brown eyes and the twitch in the corner of her mouth. "Don't worry. Frankly I think they're running out of ideas, and they can't do anything too nasty when you haven't been seen for two years." Quite suddenly he reached forwards and grabbed one of her wrists. If the motion had come from anyone else, they would have quickly found themselves in a lot of pain before they could touch her. "Actually Wing, I've been meaning to speak to you about that."

Wing winced again, but didn't try to pull away.

"Wing, when I hit Ecruteak? You know what I found?" She didn't answer, and he continued softly, "You do know. You were the first one there. You were the reason they were stopped, but you know what I found when we got back, when we rushed back as fast as our feet could take us, me and all the other Skylers?"

"Bodies, blood, craters, scorch marks, the occasional demolished house and no sign of me," she shot back, but the usual well-known sting in the half-question was gone.

"Exactly. Now, for one horrible moment I thought you'd been killed, but reason overpowered that: they'd cleared out and cleared in a hurry, those who were left. And besides, I had to go over the bodies, the ones left, to identify the ones I knew. So that was ruled out, and I was unspeakably relieved at first, but then I got to thinking of other possibilities. They only leave when they take what they came for. And you and your Pokémon were their biggest prize. They wouldn't have left without their trophy. You. The Rockets never give up."

"The Rockets," Wing agreed, with a small bob of her head, and tried for a slight pout. "You didn't give up on me that easily, did you?" She was pretending to be calm, pretending not to care, that this was all a game, but inside she was hot and freezing and her nerves fizzed over with anxiety. She should have told him, she knew, if not anyone else. Rowan had been her best human friend all her life, even though he was a year older.

"No, Wing. I didn't give up." Rowan caught her slight movement and grabbed her other wrist, stopping her from turning away. "Every day for months after I woke up wondering, then remembering, then thinking 'Today's the day she'll leap out of some shrub and help us rout the rest of the Rockets', but that day never came." He met her gaze steadily. "I was worried. I thought you'd been caught. You and Sparks might have been split up, and then who knows what might have happened?

"So now I want to know why."

He wasn't going to let her get out of it. He needed to be told, anyway.

"Eevee!"

The indignant squeak of a normal-type Pokémon drew their attention downwards, and Wing glanced down, her eyes widening only slightly as she met the nervous gaze of one kit, only to have it dive back under cover when she made eye contact.

"You weren't discovered, Rowan," she said quietly, watching the Eevee. Her voice sounded dead, anguished. "_We_ were betrayed."

Rowan swore quietly as he released her wrists to think. "Who? Who would be stupid enough to…"

"Eloril," she interrupted bitterly. "It was Eloril. I saw him exchanging details with the Rockets. He saw me seeing it and arranged the ambush. You remember? The one in the North Woods. Hoping to get rid of me early, by 'accident'."

Rowan was silent for a moment, blue eyes fixed determinedly on the dusty ground. When he spoke, it was calm and quiet, belying the emotion hidden in his words. "When I find that traitor, I swear I will rip him limb from limb, shred the flesh from his bones with Ariados claws, grind his bones to dust, boil him in oil, dry and powder it and use it as fertilizer."

"Can I help? Although I wouldn't put it on plants, it'd probably poison them."

"Eev weevee!" came the anxious squeak again. Wing and Rowan both looked down, slowly and carefully, Wing's eyes half-closed and flickering. Two of the Eevee stood there, trembling with tension. One was the eldest in Wing's reckoning. He was supporting his younger sister, who had a slash down one leg that was dripping blood. She couldn't put any weight on it and leaned on her brother heavily, rendered close to helpless by the cut that dredged close to the bone.

"Nasty," Rowan muttered.

Wing reached out a hand automatically, then snatched it back. She asked the male, "Do you want me to help her?"

"Eevee eev!" he replied emphatically, confirming her suspicions with a nod and a twitch of his long ears. He gave his sibling a tiny shove in her direction and she stumbled forward, squeaking in trepidation. Wing gently caught her and in only moments had a bandage tied firmly around the cleaned wound. The Eevee didn't fight her at all, just sat and let her do her job, although she did bare her teeth once or twice. Wing set the Eevee kit down again, to let her head back to her brother and sister. Instead she curled up in Wing's lap and went to sleep, bandaged leg held stiffly in front of her.

Rowan chuckled, half-smiling at the sight. "Pokémon trust you. I don't know why, and sometimes I think that they don't, either," he remarked as the other two Eevee crept out of shelter.

The next morning Rowan woke up to find Wing asleep against the tree, arms curled protectively around the three Eevee in her lap, and he could only shake his head at her and start to poke around for a frypan.

Out of everyone, it was agreed Wing had lost the most in that raid. Even those who'd lost their lives hadn't been through what the Master had. But she stormed on through life, taking risks and improvising where a fully plotted plan would probably serve better.

Wing blinked herself awake maybe a half-hour after Rowan located the frypan and a packet of something that looked like cardboard and passed as pasta taste-wise, and felt a throb of fear when she felt one of the balls of warmth at her side missing. When she realised it was morning, and the missing Eevee was scuffling playfully with Sparks, she relaxed.

"And how are you two this morning?" she asked the two sisters curled on her lap. They both wagged their tails and squeaked, the sounds making no sense from Sparks' perplexed expression, aside from communicating hunger, which even Rowan could pick up from across the clearing. "Hungry, I guess." Wing began to rifle through her backpack. "Are these three old enough for proper food, or am I going to make a batch of milk?"

"I'd say go with the – ow! – milk," Rowan replied, prodding at the cardboard-pasta. "Although they do have teeth." He moved the frypan out of reach and restrained the Eevee from leaping into the fire trying to get at it with his already-bitten hand.

She nodded, ignoring the antics of the Pokémon, and pulled out a small pot, plus three bottles that she couldn't remember the significance of or why they were in her pack. A few minutes later, having heated the milk-powder/water concoction, she had her hands full bottle feeding the two female Eevee and vainly trying to keep the male from lapping hot milk straight out of the pan.

Rowan laughed and restrained him, again, this time succeeding in not getting any more bites or scratches. Wing handed him another bottle when one of her hands was freed by an Eevee abruptly falling asleep, simply dropping its bottle and curling up with a yawn. When the other female joined her, Wing refilled their bottles as spares, washed out her pan, put the fire out and packed it all away.

"What are we going to do with these three?" Rowan asked her, indicating the male Eevee that was still suckling greedily and moving his hand out of the way.

"They'll come with us," Wing replied calmly. She was stroking the sleeping Eevee contentedly and knotting a piece of cloth with one hand.

Rowan sighed wearily, having had this conversation several times before and having lost the argument every time. "Wing, in case you haven't noticed, these guys are wild. I'm surprised they've stayed this long."

"If they want to go, they can," she replied airily, shrugging one shoulder in a brisker motion than usual. "But their mother is dead and Mew knows where their father is. They're in a foreign country where they shouldn't be in the first place, and they seem to have appointed us as their guardians. The youngest can't even walk." She slung the cloth around her neck and Rowan realised what it was: a carrier for the injured Eevee.

"Oh, Mew," he moaned. Then he grinned, drained, even though he'd known he was fighting a losing battle the whole time. "Well, we're stuck with them now."

"Rowan, we were stuck with them the minute I went into the Petalburg Woods," Wing told him solemnly. Rowan didn't even try to translate that comment and reached for his bag.

----

Wing made a funny sight as she walked along. She had an Eevee on each shoulder, and one, the injured one, hanging in the sling. They all swayed in time with her movements. Sparks was sunning herself on the top of Wing's backpack, supremely unconcerned.

The Master was singing, although whether to the Eevee, to Sparks, to her friend or to herself was unclear.

"Under the snow, beneath the frozen streams, there is life.  
You have to know, when nature sleeps she dreams, there is life.  
And the colder the winter, the warmer the spring,  
The deeper the sorrow, the more our hearts sing,  
Even when you can't see it, inside everything,  
There is life."

Rowan watched her silently, thinking. The song was a favourite of Wing's, and it held a special meaning. No matter how cold the winter is, spring will always come. No matter how sad you are, your heart will come to sing with happiness again. _She's big on hope. Always has been._

Wing was still singing loudly and clearly, and after a few k's worth Rowan eventually joined her in the last chorus in a cheery tenor.

"For it's out of the darkness that we learn to see,  
And out of the silence that songs come to be,  
And all that we dream of awaits patiently,  
There is life, there is, there is life."

Wing walked on in silence for a while, staring at the ground and watching where she put her staff as she limped along the trail. When she launched into "Out There" Rowan groaned: she had been recalling her repertoire. For several long, loud kilometres Wing marched along, singing her way through hours' worth of songs.

Eventually Rowan got her to shut up by giving her lunch.

"I swear, one day you're going to sing your heart straight out of your chest," said Rowan in admiration – and exasperation, a good deal of exasperation. "Wing, you're a good singer but you don't know when to bloody well stop." Halfway through her sandwich, Wing blinked, swallowed, and opened her mouth.

Rowan clapped a hand over it. "No more singing, please, just once I think I'd like some peace and quiet. You're not as bad as Taffy but the point still stands."

When he took his hand away, she stuck out her tongue at him, just a little, enough to prove she hadn't matured completely, and announced, jerking her head to either side, "This is Trick and Rue."

Rowan stared at her, and the two Eevee she'd now named. "We're really stuck with them now," he groaned, but he didn't really mind. Someone had to be realistic around here when Wing was in one of her 'moods'. "Well? What's the last one's name?"

"Ace," said Wing firmly. "Her name is Ace."

----

A man in a standout orange suit sat petting a Persian cat. The Pokémon was purring contentedly, rubbing against his hand. The battered grunt giving the report finished it off and attempted to stand straight, even though he was shaking.

"So Wing Benden is back out of hiding, eh?" the man purred softly, in a near-flawless imitation of his Persian's purr executed in a human voice.

The grunt nodded wildly. "I apologize for our error."

The man in the orange suit, the head of Team Rocket, shrugged slightly. "This is Wing Benden. She would have made mincemeat out of almost anyone who came after her or her friends. She did in Ecruteak two years ago."

The Rocket sighed softly in relief; maybe he wouldn't be punished.

"In the Ecruteak raid, the girl defeated all twelve of the Rocket members holding people captive," the man mused, his hand still steadily stroking the normal-type cat. He seemed unaware of the grunt still standing, waiting to be dismissed. "They'd only had the chance to kill two hostages before she beat every one of the grunts. Every last one of their Pokémon was beaten, and themselves, and all of hers were still in tip-top shape.

"But when one of the grunts tried to capture the girl, her Pokémon shifted their sights. If not for that Growlithe of hers we'd have her here, captive, today."

The Rocket nodded vigorously, even as he was thinking that you'd have to capture all of her Pokémon, too, and her friends, to hold Wing for any amount of time. And even then you were basically dead once she got loose.

"But, now she is back… We will have this opportunity again."


	4. Coded

This chapter was officially rewritten by Twin2 on 4-12-07.

----

**Four: Coded**

May 27th, spring

----

By the next afternoon they were halfway through the Petalburg Woods and the kits showed even less inclination to leave than before. Rue sometimes swapped with Ace for a ride in the sling (forcing Wing to carry her whenever Rue kicked her out), while their brother Trick insisted on either following the group at his own pace or hanging off Wing's plait.

"I named him well," she remarked more than once.

They stopped when the sun touched the horizon, preparing to settle for the night. "We have two possibilities," Rowan began, "as to why we're not there yet. One, we didn't read the map right and we're lost."

"Two," Wing interrupted with a cheeky grin, "someone swapped the signposts around for a joke so we're going in circles. Or three, someone's decided we're a liability and have to be trapped in this forest and have set up holographic projectors showing trees where there are normally paths."

Rowan and Sparks stared at her, one with mild confusion and the other with not-so-mild exasperation.

Wing grinned, eyes sparkling mischievously. "If you don't consider the impossible, you will be thoroughly surprised later. Prepare for the impossible, and expect the unexpected." She leaned back a little, hands behind her head casually, the most infuriatingly contented expression she could muster glued in place.

"Are you teaching those kits all this survival stuff?" Rowan asked suspiciously, gritting his teeth against her blasé expression, which had been hand-tailored over many years just to annoy him, and anyone else within eyeshot.

"Yep," said Wing airily, happily aware of how much she was irritating him. "They'll need it to survive anywhere near a human settlement, let alone actually with a Trainer. This stuff will keep them alive a while longer. The songs earlier teach them to keep their spirits up."

_If she starts drilling them in moral codes, I may need to rescue those Eevee,_ Rowan thought, before snorting. _I could try, but the probability of success is extremely low. Besides, she's right._ "The sort of stuff you teach Pokémon, not just your own Pokémon but any you come across, is usually a good varied course," he commented absently, "not all attack and defence. You teach your Pokémon spirit and the will to survive as well."

"Survival isn't strength," Wing said, apparently quoting someone by way of explanation. "Strength isn't intelligence, intelligence isn't speed, and speed isn't spirit. Survival relies on all, not one."

"Spare me the philosophy and get us un-lost," said Rowan darkly. Wing's quotes and general careless attitude were annoying enough on a good day. In murky twilight with no city in sight, they were more aggravating than usual.

"Lost? Who said we were lost?" Wing asked innocently, her wide-eyed expression making Rowan want to hit something, although he contented himself with a clenched fist. "I thought there was a reason you were leading us in circles."

"Very funny, Wing," he said instead of punching something, preferably her. "But what do you mean, we aren't lost? We don't have a clue where we are or how to get to Petalburg. We've apparently been walking in circles for four hours and you say someone wants us to be lost and has been employing all sorts of tricks to do it! We're lost, Wing. Trust me, we're lost." He sighed and ran a hand through already-messy brown hair: he tended to follow the movement when annoyed. Safe to say, when he was around Wing, he did it a lot.

"No we're not," she said in an annoyingly sing-song voice, tapping her staff on the ground in a parody of playfulness. Ace squeaked in amusement from her sling, the noise a giggle even to humans.

A vein pulsed in Rowan's temple, but he held his temper under control, knowing she was only teasing, and would only laugh and laugh hard if he lost his temper. "Pray tell, then, if we're not lost, where are we?"

"The eastern border of the Petalburg Woods," Wing replied promptly. Rue added something, but no one, not even Sparks, who glared in confusion, could understand what. Something rude was Wing's guess.

"So how do we get out of here?!" Rowan snapped, throwing his arms wide and glaring at the dusty blue sky.

"Simple, really," she replied carelessly, yanking Trick off her plait and tucking him into the crook of one arm. "The shortest route – as the Pidgey flies – is that path there." She indicated one that they had passed three times before and Rowan had ignored, thinking it would lead them in the wrong direction.

"How long have you been in here that you can memorise all of the paths?" Rowan asked, moving towards the trail she'd pointed out. "Never mind that, why didn't you tell me before?" He glanced over his shoulder and paused halfway through a step, seeing she hadn't moved, but it was a half-step too far and the earth collapsed underneath him.

"Ow," he groaned from the bottom of a deep hole.

"That'd be why," she informed him dryly, her head peering over the edge carefully – not too close. "This whole path is dotted with pitfalls – I can see four more from right here. Sparks, rope, please." The small electric type had been scrabbling in her backpack and now drew out a long rope that had seen many uses but was unfrayed.

Wing threw it carelessly down into the hole, bracing herself firmly, more carefully than one would expect from her usual demeanour, and Rowan climbed up easily, hoisting himself out of the hole with relative ease. The Master coiled the rope swiftly and passed it back to Sparks, where the mouse could put it away again.

"I was trying to figure a way around it, this path – since we were going in circles I knew we'd come back to it eventually." Wing shrugged airily as Rowan walked on, shaking his head and muttering to himself, "Lugia defend us, she's in logic mode."

Wing hit him lightly on the back of the head with her staff, making her friend stumble and glare. "I heard that. Logic works, and it's saved your life more than once. Don't diss it!" Trick batted at her plait and she scooped him up quickly, but still didn't start to move.

"How'd you know the trap was there, anyway?" Rowan asked curiously over his shoulder. His foot plunged through the branches covering a second hole and he reeled back quickly, faster than anyone else would have, and avoided actually falling in by about a millimetre, instead falling backwards onto his butt.

"These are poorly engineered," Wing answered, drawing even with him and poking disdainfully at the new hole. "The dirt cover is slight and overset by leaves, very badly hidden. The edges of the dirt cover used are not blended with the surrounding earth properly – and they're fresh, it's still damp – which gives the holes a distinctive warning shape. Plus, the trees nearest them are marked with red cloth."

Rowan made a face as he stood up and dusted himself off, moving carefully around the deep hole. "I've been away from you too long. I forgot how dangerous your life is."

"No kidding," Wing replied, prodding at the edges of the fissure with her staff, making dirt crumble into the hole. "And your eyes are way sharper than mine. You should have spotted the traps, not me."

"Don't rub it in. All I've used my eyes for recently is to not trip over tree roots," said Rowan gloomily. Sparks passed Wing the rope again, laughing silently, and the Master slung it over one shoulder with a dirty look at the mouse, looking otherwise resigned.

Rowan sighed and scratched his head, looking at the trail with despair; he could see the pitfalls easily now. "Whoever dug these had a lot of time on his hands. So, how do we get through here?"

Wing shrugged slightly. "You lead. The dirt's drying; you'll spot them more easily than I will. Lead me, Sparks and the Eevee around them; if you slip up I've got the rope. Easy as."

"I hate logic mode," said Rowan with a weary grin. Wing laughed and tapped his shoulder gently with her staff.

"Put a sock in it and get to path-breaking!"

----

"Damn," the man in black whispered. "Fearow to Eyrie, Fearow to Eyrie, do you read me?"

"We read you, Fearow," the radio crackled. "Have the Pidgey been caged?"

"No sir. The Raven noticed the cage, and now the Eagle is leading her and the birds through the bars of the cage. His eyesight is as good as his namesake."

"Stall them. We need the Raven. We're sending the Flock and their Tremor in. If she puts up too much of a fight for you to hold her back, attack the Eagle. He'll fight too, but he's not as dangerous as her, and under death threats, the Raven won't risk his or the birds' lives. You have to love her morality that way."

Fearow rolled his eyes. They'd been told 'strictly business' for the radios, but whoever was manning the Eyrie seemed to be chatty.

"Message received. Approaching target, the Raven is at the rear, Eagle the head. Fearow out."

The man in black sped towards his destination. _I hope the Flock gets here soon,_ he thought grimly. _The Raven and the Eagle are no easy fight._

----

The forest around them was rattling and hissing in the wind. "First it's too quiet, then it's too loud," Wing said grimly, eyes narrowed. "Something's definitely up." The Eevee triplets voiced their agreement loudly from her shoulders. "And it's very hard to balance with the three of you up there."

Rowan kept them on the path around the holes. "Are they this desperate to catch us?"

"They're that desperate to catch _someone_ wandering around the forest," Wing said dryly. "How many holes have there been now?"

"At least thirty two," Rowan replied grimly. "And their covering is getting better. I actually have to concentrate on where I put my feet. Be careful here – there's a pair of holes really close together."

Wing tiptoed around the edge of the holes, very careful where she put her feet and staff. Sparks snorted at them disdainfully and jumped over cleanly. It was obvious she thought this sort of balancing act was boring and embarrassing.

Wing yelped suddenly and fell sideways, only just catching herself in time to avoid falling into a hole. She balanced on one foot and said loudly, "Trick, if you do not let go of my plait this instant I will have to kill you."

Rowan, Sparks and the other two Eevee laughed as Trick clambered up Wing's back to lick her cheek, trying to pacify her. Wing grumbled under her breath and moved out of the danger zone.

"One could almost swear that someone knew we'd be coming this way," said Rowan. "I hope there isn't a welcoming party at the other end."

Wing shrugged. "I dunno. At least then we'd know who we were up against. I don't know if this is Team Rocket, Magma, Aqua, or an ally trying to catch someone else." She tapped the butt of her staff against her leg. "Which reminds me, how are the others doing?"

Rowan shrugged, eyes sharp on the path. "They're doing alright at the moment, although Kite fell off a roof two weeks ago and broke his arm."

"The idiot. What was he doing on the roof in the first place?"

"Tell the truth, I really don't know. He does weird stuff like that sometimes."

"Believe me, I've noticed." She paused in talking to edge around a particularly wide hole, stumbling and almost falling in, but skipping over at the last second. "I meant earlier, after… y'know, the big one."

Rowan winced. "Well, you know what happened with… um… the big fight. The captured ones from my end were nervous, like, really nervous, for weeks afterwards." He paused. "None of them saw if you'd died or not. The clean-up crew was shocked by the destruction. That reminds me, Shrake wants to know if they set a bomb or something, or even just an Electrode, because the damage was incredible."

Wing coughed into her hand. "I _might_ have had something to do with that…"

"They handled it, but they didn't like it. Everyone thought it was impossible." Rowan glanced back at her nervously, obviously wondering how she was taking it.

"Well, obviously it wasn't," Wing said tartly. "What about Professor Cedar?"

"Like I said before, she threw two fits over your disappearing act. It took a lot for us to get her to concentrate on what we needed to get done." Rowan made a face. "Stubborn old hag."

Wing snorted, but she seemed more subdued than before, pain obvious on her usually impassive face. "I got them all out, ASAP," she said abruptly, answering a question he'd never asked but had wanted to know for two long years. "But I couldn't find her. I was in a panic, rushing all over the place. I was terrified, and furious, and I really didn't know what I was going to do. I was starting to wonder, and then I finally found her…" She took in a shuddering breath. "You know what happened from there."

Rowan did, and it hadn't been pretty.

He let her walk in silence for several more minutes, before she broke it with a quick, harsh growl of, "How are they back?"

He didn't get a chance to answer, as she continued, her voice rising in anger, "I leave for a couple of years and come back to find Team Rocket back up and running? How did they do it and what the hell have you guys been up to?! We kicked their butts! They can't be _back!_"

Rowan grimaced. Wing had a vendetta against Team Rocket, one that he didn't know the details of, which meant it was dangerous to talk to her about the evil organisation. "We still don't know who their boss is. There was a rumour that he was the Leader of the Viridian Gym back in Kanto, but he's never there, and every search has yielded absolutely zilch. He's the one funding every stinking operation – even the Ecruteak raid. To take down the Rockets, we're going to have to take down the boss."

Wing was quiet for approximately four seconds, before speaking again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I will find him, if it is the last thing I do." _For her. For them. For everyone they ever destroyed._

Team Rocket. The most evil organization on the planet. The news never covered the big things, like the Ecruteak… say, _problem_ two years ago. Pokémon thefts were publicised, but not the real things they got up to. The Rockets didn't care who they hurt to achieve the ultimate: world domination. Trouble was, they had tried to use Wing and her Pokémon. If they hadn't gotten her involved, they might have succeeded.

She was just a Trainer, a young girl just starting out, when she first met Team Rocket, and since then, she'd had more encounters with them than any other Trainer on the planet had come out of alive. And with every battle, she had more reason to fight them. Ecruteak would have been the last straw if she hadn't disbanded them that very night. But if they were back…

She had another chance for revenge.

Rowan, although his cheerful, open, quick-minded attitude might not show it, was an agent of Team Skyler: a team who opposed all the misuse of Pokémon. They fought against Team Magma and Team Aqua in Hoenn, Team Rocket in Kanto and, once upon a time and now yet again, in Johto.

Wing had worked alongside Skyler before: when you were as vigorous in attacking Team Rocket's strongholds as she had been as a thirteen-year-old, you tended to get noticed. And the Skylers, desperate for backup, had agreed readily to having a powerful young Master on their side. Even if she was independent as heck.

Wing's mouth tightened. In her mind, Team Rocket did not deserve to share a planet with the Pokémon they exploited. They didn't deserve to share the _universe._

She blinked and brought herself back to the present. Rue, at least she thought it was Rue, was rubbing against her cheek. Ace was snoring faintly and Trick… he was sitting on her head, batting at passing dust motes. "We must be nearly there," she said, frowning slightly. _How long was I spaced out for, anyway?_

"Yeah, we should be," Rowan agreed, careful to keep his voice calm. "Unfortunately, if you will remember your maps, then perhaps you will notice that this path is not a straight line and we are lucky to be able to see five metres in front of us!"

"Oh. Right. Sorry. But you know I'm bad with maps!"

They continued, Wing scowling as the path narrowed. It was hard enough for her to limp around as it was. The rustling faded away abruptly as a man clothed in dull black stepped out from behind a shrub, making Rowan jump, Rue and Ace squeak, Trick fall right off her head (Wing shifted her arms quickly to catch him), and Wing herself caught her breath. It didn't seem to bother Sparks, mind you; the flying mouse was glancing around, looking supremely bored.

"Who the hell are you?" Rowan asked sharply.

The man shrugged slowly as he took out a fistful of Pokéballs. "It don't matter, kid."

"How do we attract all these weirdoes?" Wing sighed, shifting her grip on the wriggling Eevee.

"I have absolutely no idea," Rowan growled, taking up two of his Pokéballs without looking.

"Numel! Mightyena! Let's go!"

"Marika, Cloudgem, I choose you!" The four Pokémon (the Mightyena and Numel, plus Rowan's Azumarill and Pidgeot) appeared in a blaze of white light. "Ready for a fight, guys?"

"Maa, azumaari!"

"Pidgot-tto!"

"That's a yes, then. Marika, Bubblebeam Numel. Cloudgem, Wing Attack Mightyena!"

"Numel, hang tight! Mightyena, dodge it!"

Despite the Dark-type's best attempt, Cloudgem struck it with a full-on Wing Attack. Rowan smirked. "You'll have to do better than that to evade Cloudgem. Use Gust!"

The Flying-type whipped up a tornado of winds, which slammed violently into the Mightyena. Marika was still dousing the Numel and Rowan wondered if the Pokémon was even aware that it was wet. "Keep it up, both of you!"

The Mightyena collapsed under the continuous force of Cloudgem's attacks and returned to its ball.

"Numel, use Ember!" the man ordered, seemingly not to care that he was halfway towards a loss.

The Numel spat fire at the Pidgeot, which it dodged easily. "Both of you, attack together!" Rowan called.

The two Pokémon powered up their attacks, ignoring the small fireballs the Numel was still spitting, then released the energy simultaneously.

The Numel finally worked out how weak it was, and fainted. The man recalled it, looking calm. Rowan glowered at him. "Are you going to get out of our way now, or what?"

The man didn't say a word but melted into the shrubbery again. Rowan scratched his head in confusion.

Wing shrugged, moving alongside him. "I repeat, how do we attract these weirdoes?" She had stayed quiet during the entire encounter, probably guarding them from the rear. Wing did not like getting snuck up on. "Let's get moving. Where there's smoke, there's fire; where there are grunts, there's trouble headed our way." Suddenly her voice was serious, collected and calm, a big change from her weirdly light-hearted bounce earlier.

Rowan nodded silently and moved on, more swiftly than before. When Wing went serious, it usually didn't mean much. But her analogy was correct: where there's smoke, there's fire.

There was a faint rumbling, like thunder from far away, and Wing tensed. "I hope that's not a storm brewing," Rowan muttered, before glancing at the cloudless twilight sky and frowning.

"This doesn't bode well," said Wing grimly, grabbing Trick up from the floor and putting him on her shoulder, telling both he and his sisters to hold on tight as the thunder growled a second time, much louder and much longer. Wing stumbled, setting her staff into the ground fast and wincing ever so slightly as said ground trembled under her feet, and Sparks squeaked in surprise.

There was a gunshot crack from behind them that could have indicated a falling branch, but Wing suspected otherwise, and tightened her grip on both her staff and her will, preparing for trouble.

"If I might make a suggestion," said Rowan cautiously, as a hidden pitfall off to the left suddenly collapsed, unsettled by the earth's movement, "run!"

The Master needed no further encouragement and bolted, moving in an odd, bounding lope that favoured her bad leg, her staff supporting it whenever it was on the ground. Rowan sprinted alongside her in a more balanced movement, not having such problems, although he did glance at her with concern.

_I hope she's okay, _he thought. _That leg cannot be fun to walk on._

All of the pitfalls were collapsing ahead of them, unable to hold steady in the earthquake, so it was a simple matter to leap around or over them: judging from more loud 'cracks' behind them, they really didn't seem to have time to tiptoe around.

Wing suddenly tripped, stumbling as the earth jerked violently under her feet, and Ace went flying out of the sling. Of course, Murphy's Law being what it is, there was a hole directly in front of them, so that as Wing continued to fall, bracing herself, the Eevee began to fall into the hole.

"Ace!" she shouted, stretching out a hand, although she was too far to reach her. Rue shrieked and leaped after her sister, Trick yowled and sprang after both of them, and Sparks sighed before jumping after all three.

Rowan skidded to a stop as his friend dove headfirst into the hole, her upper body falling into it with her arms stretched out, obviously reaching for the Pokémon. He sprinted back, struggling not to fall like Wing had barely ten seconds ago, but the sight of the hole made him pause.

Wing was holding out her staff, which Sparks was clinging to with her teeth, her little hands and feet tight on Trick's tail. Trick's teeth had a good grip on Rue's furry tail, and Rue had grabbed her sister Ace by the ruff, the youngest of whom was staring downwards in terror. Thus they were all suspended over a bottomless pit of blackness.

Rowan swore, looking into the hole. Wing glared at him out of the corner of her eyes, the dirt holding up her lower body beginning to crumble under the stress of the quake. "How deep is that thing?" Moving quickly, he leaned down, grabbed Wing's shoulders and pulled her up, before taking control of the staff and lifting the chain of Pokémon up with it. Rue and Trick spat out clumps of fur, ignoring the shaking ground, while Wing removed Sparks from her staff: the weight of four Pokémon had embedded her teeth rather deeply in the wood.

"I can't keep this up," she told Rowan flatly, picking up the three Eevee and standing, definitely shaky. "And those things aren't just holes anymore. They're pipes. Pipes we're supposed to –" The rest of her sentence was cut off at a particularly violent judder of the ground as she and Rowan suddenly fell away from each other. Wing lurched backwards, slamming her head against a low tree branch and sinking quickly to the ground, shaking her pounding head.

Rowan wasn't quite as lucky to get a crack over the head and a nice spot to sit down. With a shout, the ground he had fallen on crumbled underneath him and he fell backwards into the pipe.

Suddenly he was falling headfirst, disoriented by his sudden fall, metal slipping past his shoulders, wind whipping at his hair and gravity dragging him on.

_This is going to hurt when I hit bottom,_ he thought, gritting his teeth and trying to turn so that his head wouldn't hit the ground first, but not succeeding: the pipe was just too small. The tube widened a little, and as he began to tilt his body, trying to get his head tucked up and his shoulders first, the angle smoothed out. _Okay, it'll still hurt, but not as much. I hope._

Suddenly, the metal disappeared, and he flew on his own momentum for a second and a half before slamming into a wall, and everything went black.

----

Rowan slowly came to, eyes blurring and refocusing at random intervals until he let them flutter shut again. Damn… that was one hell of a headache… what the heck had he been doing?

Slowly, memories of the last forty-eight hours permeated his head and Rowan jerked upright, cursing. It may not have been such a good idea. Stars flashed in his vision, making him wince, but it definitely wasn't as bad as it could have been. At most he had a minor concussion; at worst a fractured skull. He'd survive. He had definitely had worse.

Rowan stood up slowly, cradling his head carefully and checking his neck for strains – no damage – and then began to investigate his surroundings as quickly as he could. It was pitch black, which really didn't help.

Forty two seconds later, he had decided he was in a cell, about ten by ten, with a concrete floor, walls made of an unfamiliar but hard substance, and one wall was made up of hard bars, running vertically, probably steel or bronze.

This had definitely been planned.

Rowan ran a hand over the bars, invisible in the darkness, considering their thickness. He leaned his pounding head against one, letting the iciness of the metal quiet his headache. Too strong for him to bend, but…

"Argyro," he said quietly, pressing the button on one of his Pokéballs. A Kirlia formed, shaking green hair out of her eyes with a soft rustle and twitching her shoulders restlessly. "Argyro, we're in a spot of trouble. Can you Teleport here?"

She shook her head apologetically, and made her hands into a box shape.

"Barrier, huh? Well, can you bend these bars apart so I can get out? No way am I strong enough to do it on my own."

She trilled agreeably, and two bars began to glow blue, lighting up the area so that Rowan could see her eyes shut in concentration, the room thrown into dull relief.

But more importantly, he was on his own. Wing wasn't here.

He'd doubted it: if she had fallen down the same pipe as him, he'd have noticed, even while knocked out: Wing was very noisy when annoyed, and this sort of _problem _would have pissed her off to no end. So she wasn't down here.

All the same, he cursed softly.

_Maybe she didn't get caught,_ part of his mind rationalised, but he knew that that was not a very likely outcome.

_She can't balance properly. She uses that staff as a weapon, but she still needs it to walk. Her leg was shattered two and a half years ago, and it hasn't finished healing yet, the bloody thing. It was a real mess – I saw the X-rays. Her Espeon splinted it from the inside, but it's still damaged. And for all I know, she's broken it again recently. She's bad with bones._

----

Wing gulped down air exhaustedly from her position about fifteen metres up an oak tree: as far up as she'd been able to get. She had one arm looped around the trunk for stability as she watched the rippling motions of the ground stilling as the earthquake vanished, as quickly as it had come.

"Taking Rowan with it," she muttered bitterly.

It had been close to four long hours since he'd fallen through the ground. Wing had spent too much of that time scrambling through the forest and trying not to get crushed by falling trees (of which there were also too many). "I keep telling him it's dangerous to hang around me! Now he's stuck maybe a hundred metres underground, and if I go down to help I'll probably get the same!" It was dark now: pitch dark, at least midnight, but the Master didn't feel the slightest bit tired. Just anxious, and furious, and guilty. "But no way can I leave him… I won't. Never. Ecruteak was bad enough. But if I get caught…"

She quit arguing with herself when she heard human voices, instead opting to kneel gingerly on her branch and listen.

"Man, this place is torn up worse than a muddy Ponyta corral," someone grumbled.

"Quit griping," a second voice ordered. "We're just a clean-up squad, to make sure nothing gets left behind, and make sure someone didn't do a vanishing trick and escape the traps."

The crackle of a radio pervaded the conversation, then whined into a sharp peak as someone began to shout. Wing listened closely to the transmission: "Attention all units. Attention all units. The Raven and the Eagle are still on the loose, I repeat, the Raven and the Eagle are still on the loose. If spotted, radio for backup. Do not attempt to take them on your own. Over and out."

Wing ignored the panicked whispering from the squad below and began to think. 'Eagle' was Rowan's code name in Skyler… _and Team Rocket no doubt have their hands on all of the codes thanks to the Ecruteak raid. _Wing swore quietly. _Mew blast Eloril, that traitor._ No one else even understood the words the Skyler agents used for codes – they were apparently the names of birds from faraway places – let alone used them. But who the hell was 'Raven'? Wing didn't know anyone who used that code. Had someone been following Rowan for backup?

_The only solid information I have is that Rowan is free. And that probably means that he's gotten loose, which really isn't a shock. He's Rowan. No cage can hold that boy for any period longer than twenty minutes. This is the longest I've heard of… he must have gotten knocked out…_

"But I'm still worried," she murmured to the Eevee and to Sparks, all four of whom were mercifully silent. Sparks understood the seriousness of the situation; possibly she'd told the Eevee to shut up, too. "He'll have to fight his way out, and there've got to be hundreds of them around. I need to do something." The cleanup squads below were now arguing raucously. Wing ignored them, aside from half an ear pricked in case they said something useful. "I'll have to follow them when they head back and slip in," she decided quietly, and Sparks nodded. "See what we can learn from the inside." Wing stood on her branch, pleased that she'd thought up a method of attack. The wood beneath her wobbled slightly, and she had to dig both hands into the trunk for balance.

Wing made a face as she climbed down, mostly using her right leg, because her left leg had been shattered in a rockfall, and she had smashed it again just last year like Rowan had guessed, which really did not help matters. The bone was healing neatly, but slowly, and in the meantime she was stuck hobbling around on her staff. It hurt, but she ignored it. The inner splints she had were keeping it together, but it was definitely going to take a while to heal.

Having half a mountain dropped on you was not good for bones.

----

Wing trailed one of the four man squads back to their base. "I can't believe they're going to hold those twerps in our base, if they ever catch them," one grumbled. "What if they get loose? They'll make such a mess!"

There was a meaty thud as someone either punched the grumbler or kicked him in the shins. "Stop whining! The boss says whiners have to…"

The man whispered something too low for Wing to hear and the squad erupted into laughter, except the grumbler who now looked slightly pale in the little light the stars and moon gave off.

They walked in through a concealed entrance, still chortling. Wing grinned. "Thanks, boys. I would never have found that on my own." The Eevee chattered quietly as all three of them clutched onto the back of Wing's neck and shoulders. Sparks hung onto the backpack.

Her staff held firmly to her side to avoid making noise, the girl flitted into the base with only a slight limp to her pace…


	5. Ease

This chapter was officially rewritten by Twin2 on 10-12-07.

----

**Five: Ease**

May 27th, spring

----

Wing moved swiftly along the metal-lined passageway, eyes darting and her staff held crossways over her chest. One hand was firm against the wall: the only balance she could use. The hardwood staff would clatter and crash against the iron of the floor, and that would alert the guards. With only Sparks with her and three baby Eevee to protect, she really didn't want that.

_If only Zeek was here… or Koruki…_

She blinked and drew instinctively away from the thought pattern, jaw tightening. Faintly she could hear men and the occasional woman talking, laughing, the sound of glass breaking and heavy ceramics clinking. Tiptoeing forwards, leaning her whole shoulder against the wall now, she peered at the distorted reflection in the wall and jerked back hurriedly as a man, mid-twenties or so, stepped out of a door. He went back in a few seconds later, enough for Wing's heartbeat to speed up considerably, but as the door clicked shut solidly she breathed a silent sigh of relief.

_Phew. That was close. I guess I found the guard room, then._

She took in a smooth breath and let her mind drift, before latching onto a new idea. Wing allowed herself a wicked grin. This was going to be fun.

----

The bars shifted and bent, creating an oval gap just wide enough for Rowan to slip through, and the blue faded, leaving him in pitch black again. "Thanks, Argyro," he said softly. "Head back in and rest." She returned with a burst of dull red light, and Rowan gripped the mutilated bars, sliding between them easily.

He moved along the corridor quickly but silently, testing the ground in front of him before stepping and keeping his feet low. Trip over anything and he was sunk. As he moved, he kept one hand on his belt, fingers around the hilt of a small knife – no good against a handgun but definitely better than fists if this got dangerous. It was still pitch dark and he couldn't see, but keeping the other hand on the wall, he moved forwards.

A set of stairs interrupted his journey and he slowed down to navigate them, not wanting to stumble and fall. Faint light began to shine from above as Rowan climbed upward, so that as he hit the summit of the stairwell, everything was clear and bright again.

The agent wondered how far underground he was as he kept moving, feet quick but silent. His backpack dragged slightly at his shoulders, but he ignored it, carefully checking around a corner before moving on. The passages were cold and silent, empty, and Rowan wondered where all the people were – and there had to be people, for there to be electrical lights flickering overhead, and this had to have been planned, after that ambush in the forest.

Rowan frowned. It just didn't add up. Where was everyone? Why weren't there any guards? He hoped Wing was ok, but he had no way of knowing.

He came to a T-fork in the passage and paused uneasily, looking down the two identical corridors. The boy selected the left one randomly, moving a little faster now, more nervous than before. Many bases were built to be maze-like, to confuse intruders, the main Skyler bases included, and if that was the case here he was in trouble.

He passed another offshoot in the metal hallway but ignored it, moving past without giving it a second glance. A second later he wished he had, Rowan's eyes widening as a hand shot out, clamping over his mouth, and scrabbled to draw his knife. He was dragged into the metal alcove with ease, but he fought back fiercely, trying to kick free. The agent froze, his struggles stilling quickly, as he felt the ice of a blade against his throat, but didn't drop his own weapon. For a few seconds nothing shifted, before the heavy thumping of metal-capped boots thundered past them, a dozen Rockets running down towards Rowan's cell. Both of the two in the offshoot passage went stiff as they passed, but as the sound faded away Rowan heard his captor breathe the faintest sigh of relief before removing the knife.

"Sorry," a quiet, dark voice whispered. "Knew you'd panic, didn't want to attract attention."

"What's going on?" he asked, slightly confused and still not daring to move. "Who are you? Why are you helping me?"

A hand gripped his shoulder and turned him around; Rowan found himself facing a teenage woman, maybe his age, clad entirely in black, even her face masked in cloth, hiding her identity. But there was no mistaking the deep brown eyes.

"Wing?" he hissed, beginning to frown.

"Ssss," she hissed back, placing one finger to her lips. Leaning closer, she whispered, "The Pokémon are in my backpack. I snuck in and I know the way out. Follow me, stay close and _stay quiet._"

He nodded silently, resolving to ask her how she'd escaped capture, how she'd snuck in and why she had snuck in at all, as he followed her quickly and quietly down the metal tunnels.

She moved quite quickly, even though she was leaning heavily on the wall to keep her balance. Rowan could see her staff roughly lashed to the side of her backpack, still strapped to her back, and winced in sympathy: this was definitely hurting her leg.

They walked or rather half-ran through the tunnels for about ten minutes, taking so many twists and turns that Rowan was lost in the first three minutes, but Wing forged on, completely unconcerned, the mirror-bright walls alerting her if anyone was coming.

She ducked into a side passage as the distorted reflections hinted at someone coming towards them, dragging Rowan with her and clamping one hand over his mouth, making the agent scowl. Like he didn't know to keep quiet!

Soft footsteps outside made them both stiffen, shifting closer to the wall and unconsciously holding their breath, waiting as the quiet taps were drowned out by the louder, singular thuds of heavy boots, which stopped all too close. Wing leaned away from the opening, reaching for her staff with her free hand, but stopped as she heard the two, it had to be two, strike up a conversation just beyond them.

"Sir, there is still no sign of the Raven and the Eagle has escaped."

"What?!" The second voice was a higher-up, an admin, a commander, Wing guessed, listening keenly to the first voice's response.

"We found psychic traces in the cell. We think he had a psychic on him and used it to escape."

"If he had a psychic on him then why didn't he just Teleport?" Wing rolled her eyes slightly, getting very impatient very fast. Rowan shifted on his feet, listening intently.

"Sir, no one can Teleport in or out of the base. There is a barrier of dark energy around the outskirts and in many of the walls to prevent infiltration." There was a slight edge to Voice One's words that said he wasn't too impressed with the commander, either. But right now Rowan wasn't complaining: this could be useful information. He stored the information away, not knowing Wing was doing the exact same thing, eyes narrowed slightly.

The commander made an impatient sound. "Find them both! It's not worth your life if they escape!"

"Yes sir," said Voice One, stoic.

The footsteps faded away and Wing stepped out again, moving fast. "Nearly there, nearly there," she said faintly, too soft to hear, barely a breath of air escaping her lips as her eyes widened slightly, focusing on the next corner.

They darted around it, Wing losing her balance and going to her knees before Rowan pulled her back up. He glanced at her nervously, but her face was hard and stoic, mahogany eyes focused sharply on the… dozen? Two dozen? Worse? Whatever the case, there was a dangerous number of men and women clad in black, blocking their escape. The two Trainers – well, one Trainer, one Master – could see a stairway behind them, lit by natural light, dawn to early morning from the look of it. _Wow… we've been in here all night…_ But first, they had to get rid of this squadron.

"The Eagle!" someone up the back yelled, "quick, girl, get away from him! He'll gut you!"

"Not if he knows what's good for him," Wing muttered under her breath, Rowan wincing.

"You morons," someone said coldly, and Wing recognised Voice One from before, rolling her eyes as an arm was yanked around her neck in a headlock, her arms pinned. "This is who we're after!"

"Well that explains a lot," Wing muttered, vaguely annoyed, but more amused. But they didn't have time for this. The Eevee were getting restless, and that would be dangerous. She shifted her fingers in the Skyler handsignal for 'wait', noting Rowan's blink of acknowledgement, before speaking out. "Let go."

There was a snort. "As if, you little brat!"

Wing shrugged slightly, then moved so fast Rowan had a bare second to register what she was doing. Her foot stamped down, crushing the man's foot, her head jerked backwards and cracked against the guy's chin – he was a little taller than her, or she'd have gotten his nose – and both elbows yanked loose and jabbed into his ribs violently. The end result was that the grunt let go. Very fast.

But Wing wasn't done, knowing he'd just grab her again. The Master whipped around, bringing up one knee so that she was still balanced on her good leg, whacking where the sun don't shine, and as the grunt began to double over, slammed her foot in his chest in a powerful spinning kick that sent him into the wall.

"Nice," said Rowan, startled, "now about the others…" He began to reach resignedly for his Pokéballs, but a slight twitch of Wing's head stopped him. She said, very softly, so that only he could hear, "Hit the fire alarm on your left and prepare for pain, unless you're rubbered."

Rowan winced, and lashed out with his elbow, breaking the glass.

A blaring klaxon screamed through the building and Wing flinched, before the sprinklers she'd noticed on the ceiling whirred on and began to drench everything in sight. "Sparks," she said, a little louder, and the mouse stuck her head out of the backpack, wriggling loose to sit on Wing's head. "Charge."

Rowan frowned slightly as Sparks's cheeks began to crackle with static, her fur and loose threads of Wing's hair and clothing standing on end. "Charge, again." You could practically see the lightning rippling under her fur, reflecting in the drops of water flashing from the ceiling, and it was a mystery as to how Wing wasn't getting shocked. "Charge, once more." Sparks smirked, in perfect unison with the Master whose head she was sitting on.

"Discharge."

Sparks leapt forward, off Wing, screeching as she released the powerful wave of lightning energy. It spread outwards, focusing on the men blocking their exit, flashing brighter with every human it claimed, the water on the floor ensuring none would escape. There was a choked scream, before the electricity shorted out as Sparks landed.

Rowan shook his sneakered foot gingerly, seeing faint ripples of static playing across the surface of puddles, but he hadn't been shocked: the rubber in his shoes had protected him from the lightning conducted by the water.

"How long 'til those guys wake up?" he asked suddenly, looking at the downed men apprehensively. They were all out cold, but for how long?

Wing shrugged, the tiniest movement, and began to pick her way through the mess of bodies without a glance. "Depends how much electricity they got. Once it hits the water it can get erratic. Some'll take a few minutes, others may not wake up at all."

Rowan followed her cautiously, frowning. Wing… she had changed so much. She sounded and acted differently, even her annoying bounce on a different level from the nine-year-old he'd known. Her seriousness… was that much deeper.

_What happened to turn you so cold?_ he thought dully, the steps elevating him into sunlight once more.

"We better move, before the fire alarm makes someone figure out there's something wrong," Wing said from ahead without looking back. Her staff was already in her hands, and she planted it firmly against the ground, limping more strongly than before and not really noticing. Moving silently had taken a lot of strength, and her leg really hurt. Not that it showed.

Rowan followed her, jogging a little to catch up, but glanced back at the hidden Rocket base before it was swallowed up by the trees, dawn sunlight glinting off metal.

He already knew the answer to his silent question.


	6. Meetings

This chapter was officially rewritten by Twin2 on 13-12-07.

----

**Six: Meetings**

28th June, summer

----

The two humans and several Pokémon topped a small rise, breaking into relieved smiles at the sight of the small city spread out below them.

"I have never been so glad to see Petalburg in my entire life," Rowan sighed, running a hand through his hair and staring with obvious relief at the roofs below.

Wing blinked, and nodded a little, eyes darkening slightly. Instead of responding, she gently detangled Trick and Rue from her hair, carefully removing Ace from the sling and setting them on the grass. They looked up at her, wide-eyed, and Wing noted absently that their eyes were all different: Trick's green, Rue's garnet, and Ace's blue. She gently rubbed their ears, gritting her teeth and her own eyes flickering until she felt she was back in control. The Master said softly, "We're going into the town. It's a bad place for Eevee, full of nasty humans and monsters. You could get hurt, or captured. Head back to the forest, and stay safe, all of you."

Trick shook his head violently, tan ears flapping around his head, insisting loudly, "Eeevee! Weev eev eevee!"

Wing clenched her jaw for a second, looking down at the three of them. "You three…" she whispered uncertainly, not sure what to say. "You're special, all of you. You and your parents found a way to live, and hide from humans, in a region you've never even been seen in before. You're special, all of you." She stroked Ace's back carefully, resisting the urge to hug all three. "The human world isn't a nice one. You need to find somewhere safe, to hide from humans who'll hurt you, hide and stay safe, be happy. I still don't know how you got here, but I know there's a reason."

"Eevee eev!" Trick barked, glaring at her.

"You have to stay in the forest," Wing said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You have to go home. Be safe." She stood up abruptly, turning to face the city once more.

Trick looked at his sisters, who nodded, determination in their sparkling eyes, before they all leaped at once.

Wing, unprepared for the sudden attack, went down with a yelp, one arm moving to cover her stomach and the other her face, but as the three weights sprang away from her she sat up, grumbling, "What the hell?"

The three Eevee who had accompanied them through Petalburg Woods and the nasty incident with Team Rocket stood in a line, Wing's spare Pokéballs held in their mouths. The Master frowned slightly as she saw those, wondering how they'd gotten them off the magnetic clips: the magnetic fields were strong enough for a human to break easily, but not a Pokémon. Certainly not a young one.

One by one, they put the metallic orbs down on the ground. Then Ace smacked the top of hers with one paw, staring at Wing defiantly as she vanished in a streak of red. Rue copied the movement, garnet eyes clear on the Master until they dissipated into red gas. Trick tapped his with his tail, green eyes holding a certain measure of defiance, like his sisters, but a glimmer of pleading was hidden in the firm "Eevee eev," he voiced, a split second before he disappeared.

The Pokéballs didn't even wobble.

Wing sat frozen on the ground, eyes wide on the three orbs, shoulders stiff. Rowan's mouth had fallen open. "Sheez…" he muttered. "They must really like you."

_But why?_ Wing thought wildly. _All I've done is put them in danger… Sure, I saved them once, but I can barely take care of myself, let alone three babies!_

You were plenty sure earlier.

_They needed me then! Now they're probably strong enough to survive on their own…_

You know you're lying to yourself there.

…_Yeah. But… I guess I do like them around… kinda… reminds me of Sol… and even Koruki, to a certain extent…_

"_You're leading them to their deaths," _someone snapped, a reflected sound, and Wing's eyes snapped wide at the remembered voice before squeezing shut. _He's right. He's right, damn him! It was my fault! It was _always_ my fault!_

Her jaw clenched tightly, the only shift in her expression, as her shoulders slumped slowly, all the strength seeping out of her. _But… they… want to stay… If they…_ want… _to stay… then… should I… let them?_

Slowly, without opening her eyes, Wing touched each of the three Pokéballs with one fingertip, then scooped them up, letting her eyes open to stare at the red and white orbs. _Just hollow balls of metal… so innocent… but they can kill as easily as a blade… just not physically. They're just as dangerous._

She stood up again, clipping the three newly-filled balls into the magnetic clips on her belt and said, her voice flat and cold, "We better get moving."

As they descended the slope Wing noted, at the back of her mind, that Petalburg was its usual quiet self. The lake on the west side and the ponds to the north were peaceful, still and clear. Goldeen and Magikarp swam in the depths, and there was the occasional fisherman on the bank, waiting to snag one. They crossed the major road in the city without any trouble, Wing barely glancing to check for oncoming cars before stepping out. This nearly gave her travelling partner a heart attack, but hey, no one died.

They headed straight for the Centre: Rowan's Pokémon were tired after their brief battles in the past few days and he wanted to make sure they weren't injured, and Wing was worried that Sparks might have burnt off too much energy in her last Discharge. She'd been rather listless that morning, although the hour they spent walking for Petalburg the Pokémon usually spent sleeping anyway.

Rowan took his Pokéballs and the still-sleeping Sparks up to Nurse Joy while Wing tilted three Pokéballs between her fingers, the metal gently clacking. Eventually she let her hand tighten into a fist, then released, letting all three Eevee reform in front of her on the carpet.

The tan and cream balls of fluff all formed, shaking themselves from the unfamiliar sensation of being in a Pokéball, and Wing felt a pang of sadness, kneeling down and looking straight into their eyes emotionlessly. They stared back defiantly, and for the first time, Wing understood exactly what the three were saying, from just their body language: Whether you like it or not, we're staying with you.

In a heartbeat she wrapped them all in a hug, bowing her head to their fluffy fur and letting the three lick her face and ears. For a few minutes she just held them tight, before putting them down again and looking around the Centre for her friend. He was coming towards them with Sparks pulling his hair, looking harried.

"How do you put up with her?" Rowan growled, and Wing shrugged slightly as she took Sparks off him.

"Ready to go?" she asked quietly, letting the Eevee triplets pile onto her shoulders. She pushed herself to her feet, using her staff more strongly than usual, reflecting that it might be a good idea to hold put for once…

But something inside her baulked at staying here, staying still for any longer than she had to. She still hated cities, and even peaceful ones like Petalburg made her uneasy. So, despite the fact she hadn't slept at all the previous night, the Master walked out the double glass doors, Rowan on her heels, not daring to argue.

Wing headed down the eastern road, moving a little slower than usual, but holding steady. Rue and Ace were batting at each other behind her head, darting over her shoulder and the top of her worn bag. Trick was asleep in said backpack. At least, she hoped he was asleep. Sparks, true to form, was tugging on Wing's plait, clinging onto the black braid and laughing as it swung her around.

_Insanity forms a big part of my life,_ Wing thought, rather bleakly. She ignored her Pokémon for now, concentrating on just keeping on moving and not letting weakened muscles collapse under her, allowing her mind to wander. She was just… _too… tired…_

Rowan saw Wing's expression go blank, but it wasn't the spaced-out blank he was used to: it was forced. But there was a faint gleam in her eyes that said she wanted to be left alone. So they marched in silence.

Wing blinked a few minutes later, looking up at the sky and smiling sardonically. "Eight to four," she said suddenly, grinning at Rowan, who blinked back in confusion.

"What are you on about?"

"Eight to four! I so saved your butt in the Rocket base! You would have been lost and caught in minutes if I hadn't snuck down there!" the Master laughed, leaning back and smirking at him.

"What…" Rowan trailed off as he realised she was right. "Damn. But I'm still catching up!"

"You keep telling yourself that," Wing teased, smiling and stepping on. But the smile, the cheeky smirks and the laughter still didn't reach her eyes.

A few hours later they stopped, a little before midday, in a little clearing Rowan was positive only Wing and the local Pokémon knew about: she had been absent-mindedly walking smaller and smaller trails, but she did know where she was going. More than the Skyler agent, anyway.

"Time for lunch, or what counts as lunch," Wing surmised, depositing the Eevee and Sparks on the floor. The three foxes started to explore and promptly found something interesting to play with in the leaf litter, pouncing and squabbling by turns. Rowan released his six: Shiaa, Kayna, Argyro, Marika, Cloudgem and Tyra, the last two of whom immediately went to sleep. Kayna started to bother Sparks and the two began a playfight, attacking and leaping away alternately and giggling the whole while. Shiaa headbutted Rowan's hip until she was picked up, Argyro knelt on the grass and watched the Eevee triplets, and Marika began to play with the foxes, Bubbling at them and then running.

When the bubbles distracted Kayna for more than two seconds Sparks began to bother Wing, while the Master tried to ignore her and began to find the food she knew she'd stuck in the back pocket of her pack somewhere…

After giving all of the Pokémon a dish of soup each (which put a stop to any squabbles) and shoving one at Rowan, Wing sat back and stared at the sky through the leaves of the trees above. Sunlight dappled the ground around them, and Wing let her head fall forwards again, watching the leaf-shadows dancing over the grass.

Rowan was about to ask if she was alright (and if she wanted lunch or not) when the Master suddenly jerked upright and growled, "Sparks, if you _touch _me with that spoon again I will shove it in your ear! Got that?!" and he decided to leave her be. "I'm not hungry," she added to him, and Rowan blinked. She was sharp.

A bare hour later they were moving again, all the better for the break, and Wing, after maybe twenty minutes of silence, began to sing softly.

"Two long seconds, two short years,  
The only distance from there to here,  
So close, so far, and yet so near  
I know you're there, but somehow, I'm not here.

"Come along for the ride and hang on tight,  
We're gonna make it through this alright,  
Just hang on, hang on with all your might,  
We can make it through the darkest night

"So far away, but I know you're there,  
Even though there's nothing there,  
I'm on my own and I know it's not fair  
Even though I'm alone, somehow you're there

"Find the darkness, find the light,  
Somehow I'm gonna make this right,  
Don't worry 'bout me, I'm gonna be alright,  
But don't give up, just hold on tight

"Just hold on tight, and never give up,  
No matter how long it takes me,  
I know you're here, so far but so near,  
And I know you'll always be,  
My friend, and yet my enemy."

There were a few minutes of silence: the Eevee were asleep. "You know, that's a bit crazier than usual," Rowan remarked carefully, ready to run if he'd offended her. But Wing just shrugged, frowning.

"Now that I think about it, it doesn't make sense," she admitted. "That was kind of the point, I think." Suddenly, she poked him in the shoulder, hard, and bolted, yelling over her shoulder, "You're It!" and sprinted off, now singing a Christmas carol at the top of her lungs, ignoring the fact it was June.

For maybe five seconds Rowan stood completely still, before he shook himself and ran after her.

_Talk about unpredictable…_

----

Two days later, filled with Wing's renewed singing and Rowan's exasperation with the immature Master, the two humans arrived in Littleroot. The Pokémon didn't seem to think much of the place, but Wing smiled absently, her temporary dark mood from earlier that week having been completely overtaken. "Such a quiet place. Blackthorn was always full of brassy Trainers off to challenge Claire. Bunch of bratty morons," she added in a grumbled undertone.

"You're just pissed off because you could never beat them," Rowan teased, poking her in the ribs and blocking a responding jab, but she sniped at him verbally as well.

"Hey! I was nine, ten at the most! You expected me to beat Trainers who were more often than not going for their last badge in the Johto League?!"

"Not really. But it's fun baiting you." He grinned and dodged her following kick. "Well, you go get your healing stuff from Yakima. I need to talk to Professor Rowan." Wing nodded agreeably, already moving towards the small house-like shop she knew to be the healer's.

The Master knocked on the door, letting herself in at the quiet "Enter" called from within. Sparks followed; the three Eevee were still in their Pokéballs, and Wing had every intention of keeping them there until they left.

Yakima's shop was always nice on the inside: shady and cool, with at least three potted plants trying to strangle the lighting. Shelves behind the dark wood counter were piled with bottles, herbs and berries, and there was other stuff arranged carefully around the little shop as well.

"Yakima, nice to see you again," she said with a smile, and the old woman behind the counter grinned at her.

"Benden, nice to see you haven't died yet."

Wing shrugged, eyes shadowing briefly. "Came close once or twice. Do you have some of that blue allround healer? I'm out. According to Sparks I've been out for a while."

The woman grinned again, lines in her face crinkling up at the young Master. "So impatient," she said teasingly, moving around her little shop and finding several bottles of the blue restorative Wing used. "I'd teach you how to make this, Benden, if you could sit still for more than eight seconds."

Wing winced apologetically, leaning back a little and looking at the ceiling. "Occupational hazard to stay put for too long, Yakima. You know that." She sighed. "It's just not safe for me to hold put long enough for anyone to track me."

"Well, someone managed it," the old woman said, glaring at a bunch of what looked like dried lavender.

Wing froze, hand tightening subtly on her staff. "What do you mean?"

"Well, that young man you came in with had to find you somehow," Yakima said agreeably, beginning to stack up ten bottles full of blue liquid.

The Master relaxed, glancing at her electric-type for a second. "Sparks, don't touch that. He's just Rowan. He always finds me eventually. I don't really know how; he just does. I kinda needed him when he turned up, anyway…" She related the story of the Eevee triplets and the attack for the old woman, who regarded her keenly for several seconds, not looking down as her hands packaged the bottles.

"Benden, tell me, when you were poisoned, think for a moment. You knew it could have killed you. What did you feel?"

Wing blinked in confusion as she put the coins for the healing fluid on the counter. "I… I don't understand. I felt… well, cold, but poison does that a lot. I was mad at the Rockets, relieved that Rowan was there, relieved that…" Her jaw tightened and her eyes flashed for a second before she continued, "Relieved that the Eevee weren't hurt and we could drive the men off… but that was it."

Yakima nodded, in that sage-like way of hers, as she pressed the wrapped bottles into Wing's hands. "Wing," she said gently, looking straight into the teen's eyes. "Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes you can stop them, and sometimes you can't. But always, afterwards, there's a drive for repentance. Forgiveness." The Master blinked stoically. "Wing, you may try, and try, and try, to gain forgiveness for something that was never your fault, but sometimes, the only thing left to do is forgive yourself."

Wing blinked again, putting the restorative in her bag. "Thanks, Yakima," she said calmly, and stood up. "I'll visit next time I'm here."

Outside, Wing looked up at the sky again, her eyes darkening. _But no matter what anyone says, it will always be my fault._

She walked around Littleroot, her feet taking her to the Lab, where she watched people running around insanely and looked for Rowan. She wanted to get out of this place: even the few houses in the town were beginning to creep her out.

Finally she spotted his dark hair and made a beeline for him, dodging two people carrying what looked like a fishtank. "Why is it so crazy in here?" she asked, ducking something large, black and sharp-edged.

Rowan shrugged. "No idea, but the prof's out at Route 201, apparently." Wing nodded gruffly and made to walk out the door, dodging the fishtank again.

She hummed "There is Life" under her breath while they wandered around the forest, looking for the explorative professor. Rowan glared at her when she started to sing it aloud, but she grinned at him before swapping to Jingle Bells, and the Skyler agent found himself unable to do anything but sigh and keep looking.

Twenty minutes later found them underneath a large tree looking up, watching a middle-aged man clambering around the tree and trying to get his attention. Eventually Wing stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled, sharply, and Professor Birch glanced down. Seeing he had visitors, he came straight down the tree, nearly falling, but not quite.

"Rowan, nice to see you!" he said cheerfully, and squinted at Wing for a second. "Miss Benden, it's certainly been a while!"

Wing shrugged slightly. "Mm. A while."

"Well, why the visit, then?" the professor asked, shifting from foot to foot, obviously eager to get back in his tree.

Rowan pulled a letter from his pocket, slightly crumpled. "Cedar asked me to give this to you," he explained. "She said it was important, but I don't know what's in it. There hasn't been a lot going on recently."

The bearded head of the professor nodded absently, eyes already flickering over the note. "Hmm… seems like there could be…" he muttered. "Interesting… But, Rowan, while you and Miss Benden are here –"

"Quit calling me that, it makes me sound like a schoolteacher," Wing interrupted, glaring a little.

"–Would you mind doing me a favour?" Professor Birch continued, completely unperturbed. "Thing is, my son Brendan, he's a Pokémon Trainer, and I haven't heard from him for a long time."

Wing, who had been scanning the nearby trees, snapped her attention back to him. "Brendan Birch? Five foot two, white hair, black and red headband, black gloves?"

The professor nodded, looking surprised she knew him. Wing let her lip curl slightly. "That brat. What idiot thing has he gone and done now?"

"I take it you don't like him?" Rowan said, leaning back and looking at the Master curiously.

"Rowan, tell me, would I like anyone who tried to capture Sparks multiple times, not to mention Zanna, Slicker and Linyu?" Wing snapped, a faint growl in her voice as she turned back to the trees. She twisted her staff unconsciously in the dirt, bruising the grass and carving a small hole that rather demonstrated her opinion of Brendan.

"Those are the names of some of her Pokémon," Rowan explained swiftly. "Sparks is the one on her shoulder, Zanna is a Swellow, but the other two I don't know."

"Well, I hate to impose," the professor continued, anxiety beginning to show on his face, "but would you mind tracking Brendan down for me? It's been six months since he last contacted us, and I'm really getting worried. The boy can be too reckless for his own good sometimes. I just need to know he's safe." The distress in Birch's eyes convinced Rowan.

"Certainly, Professor," he agreed, although Wing looked less than convinced herself, the look on her face clearly reading, 'Give me one good reason', and Rowan sighed.

"Wing, he might be a brat, and maybe he was rude to you, but everyone makes mistakes, and people change. If he gets caught or killed he'll never have a chance to be a good person, make up for whatever mistakes he made earlier on."

He was considering a second argument quickly when Wing snapped brusquely, "I'll do it."

The brown-haired Skyler agent was dumbstruck by her sudden agreement. "You… wha… I… he… what?"

Wing rolled her eyes and began to walk. "We'll call you once we've tracked him down!" she yelled over her shoulder, her impatience shoving her on. They should be able to get a few kilometres done before nightfall, and Wing was never one to wait around.

"I thought you hated the guy," Rowan managed to stumble out, jogging to catch up.

"I do. But if he goes and gets himself killed by somebody else then I can't get revenge." She grinned wickedly, before the smile wiped itself off her face. "Plus, for the Professor to be so worried, there has to be something big, bad and ugly out there." She grinned again. "My spirit of adventure has still hung around.

"So let's go kick some evil butt."

----

A/N: What was I_ on _when I wrote that song?! No, seriously, I have no idea. It's applicable, but it makes no sense! Argh! (hides in corner).

But really, moving on. That was the last redo chapter; sorry for any alterations of subplots that have changed your opinion of the characters. It was needed, and I edited them as closely as possible!


	7. Dangerous

**Twin2: I'm back! The middle section for this was an idea that came to me as a oneshot but instead my brain incorporated it into this story. So this chapter sort of gives us an insight into Rowan's mind.**

**By the way, Rowan's Pokémon and their respective names are as follows, because I couldn't put it in here: Grovyle, Kayna; Kirlia, Argyro; Shiaa, Vulpix; Zangoose, Tyra; Marill, Marika; and Pidgeot, Cloudgem.**

---

Wing paused as they moved to enter Oldale, a day and a half later – she and Rowan had made good time. "Are we going to walk all the way to Fortree?"

Rowan looked confused for a moment, then blinked, and the expression cleared. "What have we been doing?"

"Walking," Wing said slowly, looking at him nervously.

"Well that was dumb of us. Toria! Let's fly!" he shouted, throwing a strangely coloured ball into the air. As the Pokémon sprang out with a roar, he caught the Pokéball and Wing recognised it as a Timer Ball. Shading her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a massive blue Pokémon with red wings bearing down on them from above and threw herself out of the way.

"Mew damn it, Rowan, warn me before you do that!" she shouted, fully annoyed. She had forgotten how big these creatures were. It – she – had landed and was enjoying a quick pat from Rowan. "I had no idea your Bagon had evolved," Wing continued, in a calmer tone now that she didn't think her life was being threatened by a dragon the size of a house.

"That would be your fault for having no contact," was the curt reply. "Now get on. Toria's fast and we'll be at Fortree by sundown." The Salamence would save them a whole week of walking.

"Thank Mew we don't have to walk," Wing muttered as Toria leaped into the sky.

---

Rowan was thinking. It was something he had often done flying with Toria, while looking for Wing. As the massive dragon took them over rivers, plains and forests, Rowan remembered one of the many times Wing had popped out of nowhere to save his ass, only to melt away again.

_I was running, struggling to catch my breath. It felt as if I had been running forever._

_Pokéballs bumped gently on my belt in time with my running feet. Their presence calmed me, just a little. It helped to know I wasn't alone, not entirely. I still had Shiaa, Kayna and Argyro._

_I touched each ball in turn, reciting their names even as I stumbled over a tree root and barely righted myself in time to keep going. The dullness of twilight made the going rougher than usual, but I dreaded the coming of night._

_It was far too dangerous to be out on the woods tonight. Not that the city was any better: in fact, setting foot in there again would be tantamount to shaking hands with Death. No way was I going back in there._

_I was still running, and it was getting darker and darker. My breath was sobbing in my throat: I had never had to run so far, so fast, and for so long before. But if I stopped…_

_It was too dangerous._

_I tripped again: vision was almost totally gone. I went down on my knees, bit back a yelp, stood up again, staggered on. I had to slow down, now: I had a stitch, and my legs were beginning to seize up from the long sprint. But somewhere on that terrified dash, I'd picked up a friend._

"_Hi!" She seemed awfully chirpy for someone who had probably followed me all the way from the city. "Why are we running?" I glanced sideways at her. She was running about a half-pace behind me, warm brown eyes curious. Two black pigtails flicked out behind her and moved in time with the motion of her head. I guessed her to be a year or two younger than me, and maybe half a head shorter. She looked faintly familiar but it was probably coincidence._

"_Who – are – you?" I managed to gasp out, barely succeeding in staying upright._

"_Meh." Her eyes sparkled when she said that. "Why are we running?"_

"_Your name is Meh?" It was the stupidest name I'd ever heard, to be honest. Weird._

"_No." She giggled. "I meant that my name wasn't important. Now, dear Rowan, what are we running from?" I snuck another glance at her: the girl was, to my utter horror, running backwards. "Hey, they're gaining on us!" she yelled, sounding awfully happy about this unwanted development._

"_Are you insane?" I yelled._

"_Probably," she answered. "Why are we running? Oh, and you look tired."_

_I wanted to hit her for such an obvious comment. But no. She was, as far as I knew, completely innocent, except of the possession of an incomparable amount of stupidity. "I'm running – because – if I – stop – I'm – pretty – much – dead," I huffed out, and tripped over a tree root. My head made contact with the ground and I saw stars._

_I shook my head dizzily and tried to stand up, but someone held me down. "Let go!" I demanded, struggling._

"_Oh stop it, you great idiot. Do you want a concussion?" The girl with black hair was apparently the one holding me down._

"_What?! Are you crazy!? I need to get moving!"_

"_Oh, calm down. I can hold them off. It's only four people." I felt her stand up and tried to follow, but my body had stopped responding. It was all I could do to keep sucking air into my lungs. "You're half-dead. If you run for much longer you'd have collapsed anyways."_

"_But –"_

_She cut me off. "Pipe down and concentrate on recuperating. Sparks!" she barked suddenly. "Get down here!"_

_A small yellow blur dropped onto her head from the trees above us. "Pest," she muttered. "Zanna, Soluna, Koruki, let's fight!"_

_A vaguely familiar team leaped out of their Pokéballs without her having to touch them, and I matched the names to Pokémon I suddenly recognised: Zanna, the small but fast Taillow; Soluna, the powerful Eevee, now an Espeon; Koruki, the loyal Growlithe who was very serious for her puppyish state; and the often underestimated Sparks, with a body like a Pikachu and the attitude of a Machamp._

"_Wing?" I muttered weakly, trying to sit up._

"_Who else, you bloody idiot?" she teased. _

"_Are you crazy?! You stand no chance against them!"_

_Her face, half-smiling, didn't even falter. "You don't know where I've been, and you don't know who I've met, and now I'm someone you don't know," she half-sang. "Don't you worry about little ol' me. I can take care of myself." Before I could protest any further the men who had been chasing me all this time burst through a cluster of shrubs I must have either ducked around or jumped over without noticing. Wing's smile, instead of disappearing like it would have on any normal fourteen-year-old female's face, broadened into a dangerous grin._

"_Oooh, and there are even five of them now!" she grinned, tilting her head in a babyish way. "Alright, my team, take your positions!" The four Pokémon shifted into slightly steadier positions, Koruki balancing her weight more on her hindquarters, Sparks lowering herself towards the ground, Zanna's wings beginning to beat out a swift rhythm and Soluna flattening her ears in concentration._

_That was about when I realised exactly how much Wing had changed from the eleven-year-old I'd known so long ago. Three years of training had changed her, changed her Pokémon, but at the same time, her confident pose and wicked grin were still very familiar._

_As the fight began, I recognized her style to be pretty much the same._

_Each Rocket sent out a pair of Nidorino each, and two sent out Numel. The other two had a third Pokémon, as well, but a more clichéd Zubat._

"_Soluna, knock yourself out," said Wing cheekily, and the Espeon loosed a powerful Psychic attack on all ten of the Nidorino at once. It was the power and range of that attack that really made me come to terms with her strength. With such a wide range the attack wasn't focused nearly enough to take them out, but as the poison-types stood up, they seemed awfully shaky._

"_Sparks, Thunderbolt both Zubat!" Wing ordered, and didn't even stop to admire the handiwork, instead continuing, "Koruki, Flamethrower two nearest Nidorino! Zanna, Aerial Ace the other two! Soluna, Psycho Cut on the Numel, horizontal slice!" Each command was accenting with a vigorous hand movement or flick of Wing's head, and the Pokémon followed the lines illustrated by the swipes._

_I had to admire the communication she had with the creatures, even as I struggled to get air back into my winded system. She had probably spent most of the time we'd been separated training – it was the sort of determined thing Wing would do._

_And it made her all the more dangerous to her enemies._

_All of the Pokémon crumpled under the force of Wing's coordinated attacks. Each of her Pokémon landed from their individual impacts completely unscathed, Koruki even grinning with excitement._

_The Rockets all looked at her, and man, they were scared. "Who – who are you?!" one of them demanded, obviously trying to salvage the situation. If he could give his boss a name of who beat them…_

_Wing whistled softly as Zanna's Aerial Ace shoved her last opponent back into the state of red light that indicated its connection to a Pokéball, and the Taillow flew over to land delicately on her outstretched hand._

"_Your boss should be familiar with me," she said, not looking at them. "Describe my team and he'll know." She must have given a signal I couldn't see, because Soluna's ears twitched and her eyes lit up. The Rockets let out screams before she teleported them somewhere – I never knew the exact location._

_Wing turned back to me and she looked anxious. "Are you alright? You look bushed."_

"_Shut up," I managed, still panting._

"_You ran all the way from the city?" she continued, looking slightly awed. "That's, like, ten k's! I'm only here 'cause I was in the forest and heard you crashing around." She sat down next to me, her Pokémon gathering around, and I managed to sit up, feeling very grateful._

_Without Wing I'd have died that day,_ Rowan thought sleepily. _And I never knew where she went after that. I fell asleep, and by dawn, she was gone._

_What did she mean? _he wondered suddenly. _By, 'your boss should be familiar with me'? She never met Giovanni, did she? Never when she was with me, and that was the only time she was involved enough with Skyler business to get near the organisation._

_Where does Wing go, every time she needs to escape? She's done it so many times, and we've never found her._

_No one has._

_And that's what really makes her dangerous._

---

**Twin2: You know, I meant to update weeks ago. Oops. This is what happens when my twin vanishes into Poland so that I can't hear her voice for a month. I stop being the temperamental author you all know and love and sort of… lose momentum. You're lucky this is up at all, really. I've been acting emo for two weeks. (No offence to any actual emos out there. But I'm being serious. By now I would have usually had four rants, and instead I'm vaguely wandering around the room, typing in between laps. I miss my sister!)**

**Now, just because Twin1 would want me to say it: REVIEW!**


	8. Glimpse Of The Past

"Remind me why I'm here?" Wing said testily.

"We're looking for Professor Birch's son," Rowan replied, for the third time that hour.

"So why am I here?"

"I have no idea," he admitted. "You kinda came over funny and agreed to look for him, even though you were cursing his name because he went after Sparks, Zanna, Slicker, Lua and Kunai."

"Oh. I remember that…"

Fortree City. The city of treehouses and wood-and-rope ladders. Not Wing's favourite city. Well, with a broken leg, it would be rather difficult to navigate the bridges, and Wing wasn't especially fond of heights, Rowan admitted. She wasn't afraid of them, per se, but she definitely preferred having completely solid ground under her feet instead of rickety wood held up by rotting rope and dead branches.

"Hey Wing?" Rowan asked suddenly, as they made their unsteady way towards the Fortree Gym in the hope that Winona had seen Brendan, "Why isn't your leg healing?"

Wing paused in her shaky navigation and thought. It was true: the leg was as bad as if it had been broken only yesterday. "You know, I never really thought about it," she said slowly. "Bone poisoning? Rebreakage? Bone healed wrong and is cutting through the muscle? I dunno."

Rowan's eyes had slowly widened at each prospect. "You should probably get it checked," he recommended. "It could cause permanent damage."

"It's fine," Wing grunted, turning back and moving on, slightly faster than before. "And even if the damage is permanent I'm used to dealing with it. It's less of a handicap now." With that, she swept Rowan's feet out from under him with her staff, not even looking back.

---

Unsurprisingly, Winona hadn't seen Brendan since he had unashamedly destroyed her team with a pair of electric-types and a good rock-type. "Where to now, Firefly?" Rowan asked, using one of his oldest nicknames for Wing.

She didn't even seem to notice. "This kid's on his way to the League, right?" she asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. "The next gym is Mossdeep, then Sootopolis. I've got a friend on Mossdeep; I'll see what he knows."

They walked into the Pokémon Centre, Wing ignoring the double-takes and bursts of whispering she was instigating and heading straight for the vidphones.

She dialled a number, muttering, "I hope I got this right," and then waited, the phone cradled loosely in one hand.

It picked up, and the surprise on Wing's face registered with Rowan. "Wow, you're home," she said sarcastically. "How long has it been?"

The man on the other end laughed. "A while. A long while. You only just caught me, actually. What's the problem, Master Wing?"

"Can't I call to say hello?" she asked, eyes sparkling with withheld amusement. Rowan watched silently from behind her.

"You've never got time," he reminded her. "This has got to be an emergency. Hello, Rowan," he added, looking over Wing's shoulder. Rowan dipped his head in greeting. "I haven't seen either of you in a while. Not since Master Wing beat me on her League quest."

"Anyway, we _do _have a problem, Steven," Wing admitted, ignoring his referral to her as "Master". She was used to it – he did it whenever she spoke to him. "You're in Mossdeep. Even on your travels, have you met a boy named Brendan, about fourteen years, Pokémon include a Manectric, a Swampert, and a half-grown Camerupt, on Pokémon League travels, has at least six badges and a really big mouth?"

The man laughed, grey hair shaking with the movement. "I take it you don't like this Brendan?"

"No," Rowan intervened swiftly. "We promised his dad we'd look for him, because no one's seen the guy for a long while. They're getting worried, and the last anyone knows of him was about five months ago, when he…" The brown-haired boy paused, thinking of a delicate way to word this. "He stumbled across Wing's camp and got her a bit agitated."

The other man nodded intently. "No one's seen him since?"

"Not that we know of," Wing said, ears pricking up. Her friend knew something, she could tell.

"Well…" said Steven slowly. "I suppose you know of our local environmental extremists?"

Wing held up her right arm, where a long scar stretched from the base of her thumb all the way to her shoulder. Her sleeves covered a lot of the mark but when the limb was crossed over her chest, the way she held it now, the scar was almost fully revealed. It was answer enough.

"Yes, well… they're back in action."

"I know," said Wing quietly. "They're part of the reason I came out of hiding." Rowan looked at her quizzically, and she continued, "Team Aqua thought it would be funny to flood my valley with ten feet of water. I didn't." The boy covered his mouth with one hand, unsuccessfully hiding a grin. "Guess we'll just have to whop them into submission again."

"Didn't they learn anything from the Groudon-Kyogre episode?" Rowan complained. "You'd think nearly destroying the planet would leave a lasting impression!"

Wing ignored him, instead thinking. Steven hadn't brought up the two troublemaking organisations to have a nice chat about old times. There was something else, an insinuation of anxiety in his tone… Wing's eyes widened, putting everything together, and as she realised what Steven was hinting at, she yelled, "Crap!" Rowan jumped. "Crap, crap, crap!" she continued, waving her free hand around in desperation. "Crap!"

"What's she on about?" Rowan asked Steven, as Wing handed him the phone and bolted off, obviously looking for something.

"If what I – and Master Wing – suspect is correct, then Brendan has been taken hostage by either one of the two hostile teams," Steven explained, looking behind Rowan as Wing ran across the room, still swearing, and dashed out of the centre.

"Crap," Rowan agreed. "Do we have anything else on them? Anything? Names, faces, centres of operation?"

"All I know is that they have new management," Steven explained grimly. "Every base has been abandoned for new ones that we don't know the locations of. They're lying low for now – the flooding of Master Wing's valley is the biggest thing they've done yet, and that wasn't even reported. It was only an uninhabited, boring patch of forest that flooded a little with every decent rain. Master Wing says it was ten feet worth."

The girl in question went racing past again, curses set aside for now, fumbling with an armful of items. She was passing them up to Sparkachu, who was balanced on her shoulder and cramming Antidotes, Paralyse Heals, various burn remedies and several bottles of clear blue liquid into her pack.

Rowan glanced behind him, watching her hop on one foot, trying to keep moving and do up a loose shoelace at the same time. Suddenly she didn't look quite so mature as the eighteen-year-old Master. It was like looking back into the past, at the younger Wing who had so often appeared out of nowhere with that arrogant smile, only to vanish once more and take the grin with her. She reminded him, too, of the fierce, energetic Trainer, starting out a year early, blazing her way through the world. Rowan smiled absently, something Steven did not fail to pick up on.

"She's always got so much energy," Rowan said softly, still smiling. "When there's an emergency, she never fails to amaze us all, even when we've known her for so long."

Steven nodded in agreement, remembering the incidents regarding the Legendary Pokémon of just a few years ago. "She's someone extraordinary." He grinned and saluted. "Take care, Eagle."

"You too, Griffin," Rowan replied, mirroring the salute just before the screen went black.

Wing walked back over to the Skyler agent, talking to someone on a mobile. "What do you mean, 'not important'?" she snapped. "I think a change in management is important, Archie!"

Rowan checked his own bag. His first aid kit was fine: he hadn't had any battles recently, and he wasn't accident-prone, unlike Wing. _Trouble follows that girl,_ he thought with a sigh, as he stood up and reshouldered his bag.

Wing had just finished retying her hair into a ponytail, letting the fine black hair flow down her back. "Okay. You may want to take cover, I'm going to make a mess," she told 'Archie' on the phone, then hung up. Blunt but effective.

"Well?" Rowan asked, not even asking why.

"Archie gave me the position of Team Aqua's base, but if they have him, she hasn't been told," Wing said quickly. She pulled out a device that Rowan wasn't familiar with and tapped a few buttons. A large map appeared on the screen of what he now assumed was a hand-held computer. "Ok." She tapped part of the map with her finger and it zoomed in. "They're about… here." She jabbed at the map without actually touching it. "Let's move."

Rowan couldn't hide his grin. "Here we go again."

---

**Twin2: Well, that was fun. I think I have the fic back on track, now. And more of Wing's past is revealed! This may not be clear enough, so I'll tell you straight out: Wing isn't a part of Skyler, but she likes to help Rowan out with his missions. Rowan helped her with her training when she was nine/ten, so she has a bit of a soft spot for him… the staff work she puts him through may say otherwise, but if she DIDN'T like him, he'd be covered in bruises 24/7.**

**Besides, he needs practice dodging.**

**I'll be seeing you guys again pretty soon! My creative spark is tingling like crazy!**


	9. Classing

Twin2: Another chapter already. Be glad I have no English homework, or if I do, I can't remember it. Where's my diary…

Comments, please.

---

"Yeeeee-haaaa!" Wing yelled, laughing even as the Swellow she was riding ducked and dived. She let out a whoop and the bird tucked in its wings, dropping like a stone towards the choppy ocean below. "Thanks for letting me borrow Takara!" she yelled in the general direction of Toria and her impassive rider as they shot past.

Rowan glanced up at her, letting the ghost of a smile flit over his face before hardening again. Wing loved flying. She loved the feel of the wind through her hair and the exhilarating feel of it all. Toria flew differently to what Wing preferred, steadily. She was fast, certainly, but not as manoeuvrable and agile. And it was the insane acrobatics, twists, ducks and dives that Wing enjoyed, so Rowan was letting her ride his own Swellow, a very large bird named Takara. He'd transferred her while they were still in Fortree.

Takara seemed to be enjoying the experience as much as, if not more than, Wing.

Wing held on tightly, screaming out with laughter as the bird dove deep and pulled out of the dive, skimming the waves. Her pack was strapped firmly to her back, her staff tied securely to the top. Sparks did not seem to feel like flying today, but instead of riding with her daredevil trainer, was opting to sit between Toria's wing joints and enjoy the view.

Rowan ducked instinctively as his Swellow swept overhead, upside-down, with Wing's long black hair trailing out behind them, rippling loosely in its ponytail. She was laughing still.

"Has she gotten drunk on fresh air again?" he asked the Sparkachu testily. Unsurprisingly, Sparks didn't answer. "How does she stay on?" Rowan wondered aloud instead, watching the free acrobatics show he was getting. Wing was a year younger than him, but as a Skyler agent, he only had the badges he needed to get his Pokémon to listen to him. Wing had trained, and battled, and trained some more, all the way to the top of the ladder. She was one of maybe five Pokémon Masters in the world right now. But battling wasn't all that she lived for: in the air, she was incredible.

Wing never trained her Pokémon only for battling. While she liked, no, _lived_ for battling, she loved the travelling side of training more than any other person Rowan had met – certainly, none of the others had ever vanished for months on end to satisfy their need to stray from the beaten path.

_Speed, accuracy, strength, defence, intelligence and spirit._ Rowan could hear Wing chanting that in his head: her own personal mantra. _Never concentrate on one thing only. _Wing could be relied on in almost any situation to have either a weird idea to get others' brains thinking again, or an even weirder idea to get them clean out of trouble.

Racing, acrobatics, a little bit of coordinating – Rowan vaguely remembered her giving dancing lessons to her Pokémon as a ten-year-old. She liked to try everything. _Leave no stone unturned._

Takara tucked one wing up and they flew into a sharp turn, then thrust it back out and tucked the other in, tilting and spinning them in a tight circle. The Skyler agent had absolutely no idea as to how she was giving the Swellow the orders for such complicated movements, not to mention staying aboard.

Rowan shook his head in admiration, watching a spiralling loop that sent the pair sailing upwards, towards the sun. He smiled again, barely noticing how light he felt.

Wing was a hotblood trainer, he thought to himself. _She likes the 'hot' types best, with one or two 'cold' types. _Fire, electric, flying, dark, fighting, dragon, those were generally her preferred types, in battling, travelling, everything.

Although, as her Espeon so long ago proved, she had a soft spot for psychic-types. Most cold-types she disliked and avoided, namely water, ice, rock, ghost, poison, and the excepted psychic. _Although she occasionally uses ice, too, come to think of it. _And she absolutely _hated_ all ghost and poison types – she hated battling with them on her own team, at least, but she loved smashing them in battle.

Some types weren't classed as hot or cold, merely average. These were normal, grass, steel, ground or bug-types.

This was the Skyler method of trainer classing. Hotblood, coldblood, or warmblood. Hotblood was Wing almost all the way: her old team, the last full one Rowan remembered her having, had held Sparks (of course), which was electric and flying; Zanna, flying again; Koruki, fire-type Growlithe; Zeek, a dark-type Absol; Soluna the Espeon; and a fire-type Charmander named Kairi she had received from somewhere and was training.

Rowan was a warmblood trainer: a steadier blend of offensive and defensive, occasionally considering battle plans. He currently had a four-Pokémon team of his Grovyle Kayna, Kirlia Argyro, Vulpix Shiaa and Zangoose Tyra, plus Toria, of course. Cloudgem and Marika had been due for a break, and he'd sent them home for a short holiday, and he'd swapped them for Toria so they'd still have a form of transport.

**(A/N: This may seem totally random, but if I don't tell you this now, my hands are going to blurt something even more random on the hotblood-coldblood subject, and you will all be confused. This is actually a method of classing that I use: I myself am a hotblood trainer, and I have a few friends, two of whom are warmblood and the other coldblood.)**

The Skyler team used this classing as a preliminary guess at battling styles: hotbloods were generally fast and strong on the offensive, and didn't cover themselves well (i.e. bad defence); warmbloods had moderate defence, moderate attack and moderate speed, while coldbloods tended to have excellent defence, slow speed and moderate attack. Their accuracy was usually better as well. Of course, this was only a vague guide, as Wing's strategies would tell you… sometimes. _She's a bit unpredictable when it comes to battling,_ Rowan admitted.

"How far!?" Rowan had to shout over the winds.

Wing steadied Takara, and their overall flight pattern became dead straight, arrow's flight straight. She leaned low over Takara's neck and began to type on her little handheld computer, not even holding onto her Swellow with her hands, controlling it with her legs alone. "Show-off," Rowan mumbled. "Well!?"

"Five minutes!" Wing yelled. Her hair was skimming out behind her, rippling in the updraft. Rowan's mind tantalised him with a flash of blue he once remembered, but then it was gone and Wing's hair flashed black as she tossed her head and shouted, "There should be an island!"

"Then what?!"

"Then, we hope that they don't have anti-aircraft personnel!" She laughed, and Takara sped into a sweeping loop.

"You're insane," Rowan muttered, knowing full well she couldn't hear him. All the same, her childish whoop brought a soft smile back to his face.

---

"So… this is it?"

"Looks like it."

Back on the ground, Wing's face was cold with concentration. Her long black hair was limp against her back again, and even the wisps that had escaped were tucked firmly out of the way behind her ears. Rowan regarded her silently again. Out of the air, the childhood friend who had been shrieking and laughing in the sky was tucked away again, hidden under years of experience.

He sighed. "If this is the place, we better get moving," he murmured.

She nodded. Sparks had been returned to her rightful place on her shoulder. Her staff was back in her hands. Her pack was strapped in place, emergency items where she could reach them easily.

Using a strip of white cloth patterned with gold, she tied her wisps of hair away, the headband giving her a look of meaning serious business. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her mind. There was something here… far off but so close… something out of place… something dangerous.

And it sure as hell wasn't Brendan.

But…

At the same time, there was something else…

Wing opened her eyes, her dull brown eyes beginning to sparkle with glee, and slowly, she smiled.

"They've really done it this time," she whispered, and the smile widened into a wicked grin that just promised trouble.


	10. Told You

_Twin2, reading you all loud and clear! I am glad to be back! I just spent a week on the Tablelands and it was freezing. I couldn't breathe properly because it was in the mountains and there. Was. No. Internet. That's why the last update was late: I meant to put it up before I left, but forgot. Not to mention I was stuck with bitchy classmates and had a mental meltdown over my camera, which I lost for about half a day before finding it again._

_Phew. This was up later than it should have been, as I had_ another_ week of school camp to deal with. A different camp. I hate my teachers. But at least I couldn't see my breath condensing every morning… because before the Tablelands venture I'd only had that happen to me twice._

_I live in a hot climate. I do not like cold._

_You can thank my sister for getting this up so quick – I actually got writer's block less than 150 words in. She solved that problem… so a big thankyou to Twin1's stubborn, head-on way of looking at things to make me get a move on and stop trying to be so goddamned subtle._

---

**Ten: Told You**

3rd June, summer

---

BOOM.

Wing grinned and Rowan rolled his eyes. "Always with the explosives," he muttered placidly. "Firefly."

Wing stuck out her tongue, the eleven-year-old Trainer rising to the surface again, and recited: "There is no problem that cannot be fixed with a suitable application of explosives."

He shook his head and kept running. Occasionally, Wing would help him with Skyler missions, insisting that she owed whatever Team they were trying to squash at the time a blow or two. But somehow, in between every time, Rowan managed to forget exactly how much the young Master knew about bombs.

They were sprinting down a corridor, one of possibly thousands in the underground base. Wing's staff flashed as she whipped it forwards and bounced ahead to keep her balance and speed at the same time. The Master had found a store of ammunition and within seconds had created a small bomb. With a timer. So, true to her usual explosive form, she decided to set it off in the nearest office to create a distraction.

So now they were running along, hoping no one was following, and wondering how the hell they were supposed to find Brendan. Although Wing was also wondering if there was a section of the base to deal with plant life…

"D'you know where they keep the gardening stuff?" she asked her companion idly.

"What the hell?" he asked flatly, taking a corner at a skid and dragging her around it. "Why in the name of Mew herself would you want a garden trowel at a time like this?" They clattered down a set of stairs, Wing bouncing down them four at a time and using her staff to get more air time. Rowan noted she was careful never to land on her bad leg.

When they landed at the bottom the Master began to move swiftly down another passage, sighing condescendingly. "Dearest Rowan, have you ever heard of fertilizer?"

"Yes." He looked faintly annoyed as they took another random turn. Sparks squeaked: she was starting to lose her grip on Wing's bobbing shoulder. "What does that have to do with it?"

Wing lost her patience. With Rowan, with herself, with "These Mew-blasted doors!" and smashed a thin metal one off its hinges with a powerful kick. As she stormed through the door, she barked over her shoulder, "Rowan, fertilizer contains ammonium nitrate. Ammonium nitrate is extremely… reactive, let's say." Her eyes glinted wickedly, and Rowan could only sigh.

"Only you," he muttered.

Pretending to take offence, the Master slammed one shoulder - the one Sparks was _not_ sitting on – into a large, heavy door, and was very surprised when the door broke under her strength instead of her entire arm. She wasn't nearly as surprised as the officers they'd interrupted, though.

"What the f-" one began, before Wing's spinning kick put him out of commission.

The Master landed neatly, her eyes glinting. "What in the name of Celebi are you doing?" Rowan asked, deadpan.

"Improvising." The young Master then leaped out at another man and buried one fist in his stomach, the other rising in a swift uppercut that made his teeth snap painfully together. Winded, he dropped to the floor.

Rowan shrugged and kicked a young man who was coming up behind his Master friend in the chin. A punch to the side of the head and he was down for the count.

There weren't many of them, and three were already down. Wing's staff, temporarily forgotten, now swung through the air to smack someone painfully across the chest. The Master whipped it around, using her shoulder as a fulcrum, and whacked her opponent in the back of the head with the other end. He fell like a stone.

The two faced each other, grinning. "Well, that was a bit of excitement I didn't count on," Wing remarked brightly.

"Where'd you learn to kick like that?" Rowan asked, panting. "It's a requirement for us Skylers, but what about you?"

Wing shrugged airily. "I joined a dojo for a couple of months – not long at all. But after that experience, every dojo I visited, I practiced. Figured self-defence to be useful." She winced and shook her left hand slightly. "I still can't punch right, though."

Rowan shook his head in admiration. "You really try everything, don't you?"

Wing shrugged again, leaning on her staff. "Maybe. But not everything suits." Her eyes sparked.

Rowan wanted to ask, but a low groan from one of the five men they'd knocked out alerted them to the fact that he was coming to. He turned around and knelt next to him, ready to pin the man if he tried to make a break for it. "Who are you?" he asked clearly.

Groan.

"Who are you?" he repeated.

Groan.

_Ooookay…_ He gave up on that question – it was fairly useless, anyway. "Where are you keeping the Trainer?"

Groan.

"You're really not getting anywhere, Rowan," said Wing idly.

"You could help!" he pointed out crossly.

Groan.

Wing groaned.

Rowan glared at her, then turned back to his captive and poked his chin. There was a bruise already coming up from where Wing had punched him. He was curled slightly from her stomach-punch, too. "You must hit really hard," he remarked absently.

Wing's sharp yell was his only answer, and the Skyler agent whipped around.

The Master was gripping her side with a vicious look on her face, scowling at the man she had first kicked. He was standing again, rubbing the side of his jaw. A red welt was rising where she had struck. Sparks's wings were starting to quiver, the feathers rising agitatedly as the muscles began to shake, begging to be set free, but Wing shook her head slightly, a bare movement, and the feathers flattened.

"Let's question this one," she said through gritted teeth. "He's awake and kicking."

Rowan nodded and left his current attempt lying on the floor, still groaning occasionally. He moved up to Wing's side, and glanced down, trying to see where she was injured, but she tossed her head at their target, shifting his attention. "Where are you keeping the Trainer?" Rowan asked clearly.

The man looked them over and laughed. "Now why would I tell two weaklings like you something like that?" he taunted.

Wing moved before Rowan could stop her, dropping her staff, and pinned the guy to the wall by his throat with one hand. The other still held her side, shielding whatever injury she'd gotten from view. "Because otherwise I won't let you breathe," she growled, her voice harsh.

He coughed, obviously trying to get loose, but Wing had her thumb on a pressure point in his neck. "Go ahead. Try it. I'd love to cause you pain."

Rowan had never had Wing along with interrogations: whenever possible, it was considered a good idea to leave the girls of the team (or in Wing's case, outside contacts) out of situations like this one. The leaders of the team considered the girls, while good fighters, to be too pitying for this sort of stuff.

_And there she goes, proving us all wrong, again._

The man stayed frozen, glaring at her for several long, terse moments, before it became apparent Wing was tightening her grip. He finally yelled out, with what little breath he had left, "He's two doors down from here! On the left! They didn't want him to escape!"

_But then again, Wing is far more ruthless than any of the girls. She knows what it is to hang between life and death, and she knows how to get what she wants out of her enemies._

"Thank you," said Wing graciously, and jabbed the pressure point hard. The man slid down the wall, bruised and unconscious, but alive. "Now was that so hard?" She turned, picked up her abandoned staff and started to walk out the door. Rowan followed her, thinking, _Wing is completely unpredictable. You never quite know what she's going to do next._

As if reading his thoughts, Wing turned right.

Rowan sighed. "I don't even really _want_ to know why, but somehow, I can't help asking: why the hell are you going that way?"

"The guard lied," she answered flatly. She paused in front of one of the doors and looked at it. "What do you think?"

Rowan looked at the door as well, but unlike Wing, he looked beyond. "He's in there," he declared.

Wing didn't even bother to ask how he knew that. "You'd better get it open, then." Anticipating his reaction (aren't you going to just break it down?), she said, "I might hurt him. You'll have to pick it."

Rowan, realising that her thinking was quite rational, rolled his eyes and pulled out a set of lockpicks from his pocket.

Seconds later the door was open. "Two tumblers," he complained. "You'd think they _wanted_ us to break in!"

Wing nodded, suddenly looking slightly dizzy. "We better get out of here, fast," she muttered, ducking her head. The gold and white cloth on her head was starting to slip, letting wisps of black hair fall forward.

"Hey!" The shout got Rowan's attention off his friend for a minute, and he glanced into the cell. A boy of maybe fourteen was sitting on the only bench in the room, looking faintly annoyed. "If you're going to kill me, just get it over with," he growled.

"I'm assuming you're Brendan," Rowan remarked, moving over to check the boy's chains.

"Yeah, that's the brat," Wing agreed, raising her head. Brendan scowled.

"Hey, aren't you that girl who was in that valley? Why aren't you still there?"

Wing snarled slightly, making Rowan wince from where he was fiddling with his lockpicks. "Two reasons. One, the valley got flooded. Two, we're busting you out. Be glad I owe Birch a favour." Her voice seemed to be fading. _She's thinking,_ Rowan decided. _On how to get out, I hope._ The chains fell off Brendan's wrists and he rubbed them, looking amazed.

"Come on," Rowan ordered him. "We have to get you out of here, fast. Can you walk?"

The Trainer nodded, looking somewhat insulted. "But we have to find where my Pokémon are first. I can't leave them behind."

Rowan nodded in agreement. "Of course not. Wing, do you –" He cut himself off. "I hate her."

Wing had taken business into her own hands. Again.

----

A girl with long black hair limped down the corridors, eyes flickering suspiciously from side to side. Her Pikachu-like Pokémon perched on her shoulder, sniffing elegantly. When they came to a fork, the human was pointed down the left path, and followed the Pokémon's instructions without hesitation.

Finally they came to the storeroom door. The Master turned the handle, breathing out in relief when she found it wasn't locked, and stepped inside.

Crates and crates of Pokéballs were stacked around her. Wing felt horror welling up inside her. They were all stolen – every layer was marked with a Trainer's name. Too many of them were even familiar names.

Shaking with anger, she strode down the aisles until she found Brendan's six Pokéballs. They were familiar – she knew they were his.

But then, as she turned around, she could hear the cries of Pokémon. _Thousands._ How many Pokémon were trapped in here, when they should be with their rightful masters? Their friends?

Wing clutched her head with one hand, trying to block out the sounds that only her mind heard. _I swear I'm cursed. I can always hear the Pokémon. All of them, pain or anger, love or hate, free or caught, inside Pokéballs or running wild, I hear them calling. And it's giving me a headache._

Her Sparkachu patted her head consolingly, hugging her ear. _Some people say I'm lucky. That I can understand my Pokémon better than anyone on the planet. Understand what really goes on. But it's a curse. Every time I can hear them but not help them, it's as if my heart is breaking._

Every cry she heard sapped her of just a little more strength, and Wing slowly sank to the floor, barely conscious. _I can't help them… but I have to…_

---

Rowan raced along the corridor Wing had passed only a few moments beforehand. He was following her, tracking her signature. It was Rowan's own secret: the ability to track someone by their individual signature. Wing's… he knew hers so well. Having to track her down when they were both younger had imprinted her signature into his mind. She had stopped moving, finally, and he was catching up. Then it pulsed with pain. He knew she was more hurt than she'd let on back in the guardroom, but he'd let her keep her pride.

But when he slammed through the storeroom door, it was definitely a shock to find her sprawled on the floor.

"Wing!" he cried, kneeling beside her and supporting her back. Swiftly he checked her pulse: soft and unsteady. She was pale, too pale.

Brendan had noticed all of the Pokéballs and was turning red with anger. "Inventoried like shop stock," he hissed, stalking away, eyes flicking from left to right, looking desperately for his Pokémon.

Wing's eyes flickered open. She didn't know why, but Rowan's presence muffled the screams. "Po – Pokémon," she croaked. "Thousands. Escape." Her words barely made sense and her eyes flickered, changing colour. Brown deepened to black, paled to blue, swirled into purple, changed to red through orange, gold, green –

He tore his eyes away from the kaleidoscope to look at Sparks, who was tugging her Master's sleeve restlessly. Rowan knew that symptom: eyes changing colour meant Sparks was in pain, or in trouble, or something similar. But the Sparkachu was fine.

"It's not Sparks," she whispered. "It's… everyone." Her fingers twitched slightly, the tiny movement indicating the Pokéballs stacked around them. "They're all so _sad_."

Rowan's grip tightened slightly. "You hear them all?"

"All. Always." Her pulse was steadying, held in check by Rowan's presence. He always seemed so… safe. "Can Argyro Teleport them out? Once they're out of my hearing, I'll be okay."

Rowan didn't stop to question her but nodded and took out the Kirlia's Pokéball. "Argyro!" he called. The Kirlia formed and bowed elegantly, showing her respect for the two humans on the ground. "Can you Teleport all these Pokéballs out of here? Back to the Skyler Base?" The Kirlia nodded confidently. "Okay. Tell Cedar that these are stolen and they need to be returned."

Brendan came sprinting back towards them, shouting, "My Pokéballs are gone! They're not in their slots!"

"Shoot," Rowan hissed, suddenly remembering why they were here. "Argyro, wait." He laid Wing back down on the floor, not noticing her trying to get something out of her pocket. "We'll find them, don't worry, Brendan."

He moved away, and the absence of his presence nearly knocked Wing unconscious as the screams began to echo strongly once more. Suddenly her pocket was that much harder to deal with, and slowly, she took her hand away from her still-burning side to wrestle it open.

"Ro… Rowan…" she coughed. Her friend turned around, and saw her holding out six Pokéballs. Instantly he was back by her side, taking the six orbs from her trembling fingers and handing them to Brendan. As the Trainer relievedly clipped them back to his belt, the Skyler agent suddenly realised there was blood on Wing's hands.

"Argyro… go," she managed to whisper.

The Kirlia shouldn't have listened to the order of another Trainer, but it did. Every Pokéball in the storeroom glowed with blinding light, before vanishing along with the Psychic type. The movement, basically of the Pokémon disobeying Rowan's previous order, distracted him long enough for the Pokéballs to get out of Wing's hearing.

Wing inhaled sharply the second they disappeared, and her eye colour snapped back to its usual brown. She stood up quickly, hiding a blush at being so weak. "Sorry…" she muttered. "There were too many. I couldn't control the pain, it just knocked me over." _I hate not being able to control this. I could get into this situation again, and if Rowan wasn't around, I'd be in serious trouble._

Rowan stepped back to give her some space. "Don't worry. I know the feeling." She shot him a curious look which he returned steadily.

"Not that this isn't cute or anything…" said Brendan boredly. Wing turned away as Rowan jumped and flushed. "I'd like to get out of here before we get caught again."

Wing nodded, hand moving to cover her side again. "Right."

----

Riding Takara again, Wing waited, pulling her mount up in midair to hover. She looked back. Three… two… one…

BOOM.

She moved alongside the other two Trainers riding Toria. They stared at her in shock, glancing back towards the smouldering island.

Her face was expressionless. "I told you ammonium nitrate made a big bang." But it only took four seconds before her fourteen-year-old-against-the-world grin came back, and the Master swooped into the sky.

Waves roiled below them as the sea hissed angrily, lashing out at the island and carrying the debris far from the original explosion site. Smoke issued from various blazes and structures collapsed in mounds, once wood and steel, now so much scrap metal and charcoal.

Rowan couldn't hide his smile. "Firefly," he muttered, watching her dive towards the waves. Brendan watched them both and shook his head.

---

_Twin1: Right, my sister is being weird and acting too polite to say this, so it's left to me. Brace yourselves. If you do not review, I will do my very very very best to extract revenge. Consider reviewing payment for reading this story. Twin2 has got FIVE reviews for this totally cool story and that is NOT GOOD ENOUGH!!!_

_Twin2: This isn't your story. Why do you care?_

_Twin1: Two reasons. First; you're my sister, and I instinctively stand up for you. Secondly; I'm sick of you being all forlorn when no-one reviews. I want my gung-ho crazy psychopath pyromaniac back. REVEIW OR ELSE!!!_


	11. A Master's Choice

_Twin2 here. I own the song in this chapter! Yes, I actually wrote that. Just imagine the melody, pretty much anything works. (I'm not kidding. I have several different melodies for that thing and they all fit. Weird.)_

_**IMPORTANT: I am considering rewriting the first six or so chapters, as they are boring and annoying, even to me. If you have any particular objections just let me know, and if you have any suggestions, go ahead and tell me, because I have only a faint idea on how to rewrite them…**_

_Comments please, even if it's annoyance at my songwriting._

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**Eleven: A Master's Choice**

4th June, summer

----

They landed outside Littleroot Town sometime after dark of the next day after they escaped from the Team Aqua base – it had been that far out in the ocean. Wing fondled the Swellow she had been riding until the soft feathers layered over muscle dissipated into the red light that signalled a Pokéball's connection.

Rowan knocked on the Lab door, and it was opened by a sleepy lab aide who stared at them for about thirty seconds before comprehending who they were enough to yell for the professor. It took him another thirty seconds to work out that Brendan was with them.

All through the noisy, exuberant reunion, Wing was quiet and stoic, arms crossed over her chest and leaning calmly against the wall. Rowan approached her, ignoring the son-and-father talk that was starting. "Hey, Wing? Birch says he has spare rooms for us to stay in the Lab for the night."

"That's good," she said emotionlessly. Sparks let out a snore from her position on her foot and she glanced downwards for a moment before thinking aloud, "Best let the Eevee triplets out for some exercise. They've been in their Pokéballs all day." Not waiting for Rowan to agree, she said, "Come on out, guys." The three Pokéballs erupted with white lights, not even waiting for the Master's touch, and the Eevee formed, shaking out their fur. Trick growled playfully, then barked.

Rowan grinned and picked up Rue from where she had been chewing on his shoelace. Ace batted at Wing's leg until she was picked up, too.

The Master gently rubbed the line of scar tissue that ran down the Eevee's leg: a memento of the night she had met the three. Pokémon healed much faster than Pokémon; in a few weeks the scar would be barely visible. "You know, we have basically identical scars," she said suddenly, tapping the scar that ended at the base of her thumb. "Same limb, same spread, even made by the same people."

Rowan frowned lightly. "Team Rocket gave you that scar?"

Wing considered what she was doing for a moment or two, before nodding. "I was nine… no, ten, just. They cornered me in the Azalea Well and we went hand to hand before Koruki could intervene. Got slashed shoulder to thumb, and couldn't throw a Pokéball with that arm for months after."

The Skyler agent nodded slowly, then asked, "So why did you show it to Steven on the vidphone?"

She made a face, gently rubbing behind Ace's ears. "Team Magma cut into it again partway when I was fifteen," she explained, tilting her arm to show him the slightly darker stretch of scar tissue. "That was what I was referring to, when he was talking about the environmental extremists. It was after that first time that I decided it'd be a good idea to learn self-def, _really_ learn it, not just occasional punches and kicks, so I guess it wasn't all bad."

There was a loud rattling sound from a passage off to the left, combined with snarls of annoyance, and the pair looked into the room with surprise. Rowan scratched his head and Wing cocked one eyebrow.

"Stuff the little idiot. If he can get himself stuck in there, Mew knows how he did that anyway, he can get himself out," she muttered, turning away. "How'd he do that in under a minute, anyway?!" Rowan continued to stare at the rattling, growling and barking appliance, at first just thinking, _I hope no one turns that thing on._ But it was swiftly followed by him wondering, _How the hell did Trick get himself stuck in the oven?_

----

_Cover of darkness, always best,_ she thought silently. The wind stirred her hair, and it was freezing cold, but she didn't even shiver. All of her Pokémon were in their balls, even the resistant electric-type.

Five Pokéballs swung from her belt, the one empty space mimicking the empty spot in her heart. Two new, three old, and one who had chosen to stay behind.

She checked her comset, finding it properly settled. One final check… everything was where it should have been. She brushed her Pokéballs with her fingers. Three of them were sleeping, but two were awake, wondering where they were. The transfers always disoriented them. She ached to reassure them, but for now, she had to get moving.

All the same, it was hard to take the first step.

Leaving everything behind, again. _For their own safety,_ she reminded herself. _If he knew what I was planning…_

You're planning suicide is what you're planning.

_I know I'm being watched. Hanging around with them is tantamount to signing death warrants. They're safer this way. And I can handle myself._

_This is too important. He would understand, but he wouldn't understand, either._

_I have to do this on my own. Not even Steven would understand._

She tossed her head and stepped into the shadows, preparing herself for a sleepless night.

The Pokémon Master vanished from sight yet again.

----

As soon as Rowan woke up in the morning he knew something was wrong. Wing's signature was gone. Instantly he was on his feet and out the door, already starting to bolt around the facility, trying to track her callsign. It lingered from their previous visits, but the rest, what should be fresh from her movements that morning or even remaining in her bed, had been erased.

The Skyler agent searched the surrounding area frantically for more than four hours, eventually returning to the lab with his shoulders slumped. He collapsed onto a chair and massaged his temples, muttering furiously under his breath. Brendan looked up from repacking his bag and asked, "Hey, what's up, Rowan? You look beat, and it's only ten o'clock."

Rowan looked up to glare at him and said in a dull monotone, "Wing's gone."

Brendan jumped as if electrified. "What?! She's missing?!"

The Skyler agent nodded jerkily, cursing the Master under his breath. She was so impatient.

"She must have been kidnapped! How could someone have gotten in? The Lab's really well protected." Brendan might as well have been talking to himself, and he pretty much was, but Rowan interrupted him glumly.

"No. She just… every now and then, she just up and leaves without telling anyone where she's going, what she's doing, or even if she leaves." Rowan sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I better go tell Cedar. She won't be happy." He stood up and walked to the vidphones, waiting as it started ringing.

"Why don't you go after her?" Brendan pestered him.

Rowan sighed, staring at the call symbol. "She's too good. Wing's been doing this for years. She can cover every track she makes, even psychic tracks, and no one knows how. If she doesn't want to be found, she won't be. We've tried everything to keep tabs on her, but nothing works. She's too experienced." He sighed, and added in an undertone, "And she's only eighteen."

Someone appeared on the other end: a middle-aged woman with a thin face and shadows under her eyes. "What?!" she barked, then looked more closely at Rowan. "Oh."  
He nodded silently.

Professor Cedar sighed gloomily. "Did she leave anything behind?"

Rowan started to shake his head, then frowned as something vibrated in his pocket. The white light that signalled a Pokémon escaping from its capsule erupted from the pocket, and a small brown-and-cream Pokémon formed at his feet. "Eevee!" it announced proudly.

Brendan and Rowan stared at Rue. She stared back, grinning victoriously. "She left one of the Eevee behind," the brown-haired boy whispered, his mouth open with shock. Struck with suspicion, he plunged his hand back into that pocket, drawing out an open Pokéball, presumably Rue's, and a slim black cell phone.

Cedar jerked her head. "Check the phone. She left it for you, obviously."

"How did she get into my room without me noticing?" Rowan demanded, flipping the phone open.

Wing's sardonic smile greeted him, and he nearly dropped the phone. "What the hell?!" he yelled at her. "You just take off in the middle of the night?! AGAIN!?! And you left Rue behind, how could you do that?!"

He paused for breath, and Wing's voice said, "Done yelling?" Not waiting for a reply, she continued, "Good, because I didn't hear that rant. This is a recording, so – no! Shut up, I can't hear you!" She raised one finger in warning. "I knew you'd be mad, so I left this behind. By the way, Rue chose to stay with you. I asked her."

"That explains a lot," Rowan agreed, knowing Wing couldn't leave her Pokémon behind just like that.

"I'm sorry to just bolt off like this, but it's for the best." Her eyes sparkled faintly, and Rowan frowned as he caught them paling to a strange grey, then deepening into a blue and red streaked pattern. "Before you say it Rowan, I'm safe. I fetched Soluna and Zeek before I left. I still have Trick and Ace, provided Sol doesn't drive them off." She grimaced. "Man, she's pissed at me. Anyway, I knew you'd kill me if I didn't leave you with some form of contact. This phone is one of few in the world that can reach my cell. Speed dial one is Steven. Speed dial seven is me. You can set the others as you like." She winked. "Listen, Rowan, I know you're mad, but what I'm about to do is insane, plain and simple. I don't want you to have any part of it. By the way, Brendan, and I know you're there, your Swampert has itchy feet. Not literally, but she wants to get moving. Hello, Professor Cedar, I'll bet you're there too, and even if you're not, Rowan'll show you the tape later. Oka, and I'll be seeing you!" She winked once more and sent them a two-fingered salute before the screen went black.

"Well, it's better than last time," Professor Cedar admitted.

"What did she do last time?" Brendan asked, not at all sure he wanted to know.

"Blew up three hectares' worth of underground base and then disappeared for two years. We rather thought she died."

"At least this time we know she's alright, if crazier than usual," Rowan agreed softly, tapping the little phone. "This is the first time she's ever left us a link before." His finger moved over the 'seven' button, but Wing's face suddenly popped into view again, making him yelp.

"By the way, Rowan, don't bother trying to call me until tomorrow. I closed the link for safety reasons. Yours." She half-smiled in apology and the screen went black once more.

Rowan scowled. "She knows me too well." He pocketed the little phone with a sigh before turning back to Professor Cedar. "So what now?"

She sighed as well. "Don't bother trying to track her. No, don't argue," she added, even though Rowan had made no signals towards arguing. "She wants to do something, and then I think she'll get back in touch. She might be a loner, Wing, but she likes human contact. Just leave her be. She'll turn up again."

Rowan sighed. "I hope so."

----

Wing, having walked and run by turns all night, was getting close to Oldale Town. When she could see the faint shine of buildings she stopped, turning away from the peaceful town to make her own way across the country.

Softly she started to sing. No matter what everyone else thought of her singing – that it was annoying, that she only wanted to pester them, even that it was lessoning for her Pokémon – it was for her own benefit.

To remind herself why she had chosen this path, even as her heart shivered on the edge of breaking.

"_I walk my own trail, the only one I know,  
My own path on the walk of life,  
No one can tell me where to go,  
I choose my way through peace and strife.  
It's the only one I ever want to know  
It's a hard life for me, but it's the one I choose_

_And I'm never lost, and I know where to go,  
And I'm never on my own,  
No one can mark my path for me, only me,  
I choose my life, I choose my way to see_

_No one can get me lost and I never back away,  
I'm a Master, a Master, and I never give up  
I am fearless and I am unafraid,  
I have friends and I have foes,  
And I'm never scared to say  
What I think of someone and what's on my mind_

_I may be famous, but no one can find me,  
I might be the best, very best, but no one can prove it,  
I'm invisible to everyone, but I can always see  
When someone's gone over the side  
Calls of fame and fortune, challenger's cry,  
Even as we fight, it's so much, so much to try_

_  
But I'm never lost, and I know where to go,  
And I'm never on my own,  
No one can mark my path for me, only me,  
I choose my life, I choose my way to see_

_Every problem that I solve  
There's more around the corner,  
Every fight that I resolve  
There's another sneaking up on me  
Every time I'm absolved,  
There's something else for me to do  
Someone else for me to be_

_It's a hard life, but it's my way,  
It's the Master's way of life,  
It's been the way I do things  
For what seems like all my life_

_But even through the problems,  
There's something to pull me through,  
My Pokémon, my friends, they all keep me going on,  
And the thoughts of who I'll avenge keep me going true,  
It's such a hard life for us to live, the hardest way of all,  
And there's nothing that we're not supposed to do,_

_But I'm never lost, and I know where to go,  
And I'm never on my own,  
No one can mark my path for me, only me,  
I choose my life, I choose my way to see.  
I choose the way to see_."

Continuing to sing The Master's Choice, Wing turned her sights on the next adventure. Nothing would stand in her way.

Nothing and no one had the guts to.

---

Note: 'Oka' is not misspelt. It may appear to be, but it's just Wing's way of speaking. It can mean several things, but in this instance it's 'okay', 'alright', or possibly 'Got that?'.

Remember, I own the song The Master's Choice, partial lyrics shown here. This is only an extract of it (a large extract), as the rest was irrelevant at the time of postage.

Now, before she wakes up and forces _me_ to say it, Twin1 says review!

Twin2, over and out.


	12. Exactly Why

_Twin2 here. In this chapter we have Wing showing us that she is quite dangerous but altogether too stubborn and pig-headed. We are also introduced to a couple of characters I have been dying to show you…_

_By the way, I've finished the rewrite of the first chapter, but I want to get all of the others done before posting it, because otherwise the stuff afterwards will make no sense. I'm rewriting entire subplots here and editing the original plot itself._

_Comments, please._

----

**Twelve: Exactly Why**

6th June, summer

----

Wing stretched cautiously: she was set up with her camp for the night. The sunset was only just beginning, but this was a good time to pitch camp: when she could still see what she was doing.

"I'm out of trim," she remarked to Sparks and the two remaining Eevee, who were attempting to copy her movements. "Guess I'll have to get back into training."

The Pokémon Master moved smoothly into a defensive stance, taught to her by her first Sensei. Balanced, comfortable, ready to absorb any attacks that come your way. Her position shifted, changing into a more aggressive posture. Make the enemy absorb the blows, still balanced, and ready to move at the slightest need.

As she moved through her positions, checking that she was limber enough for what she wanted to do, Wing sank into her training attitude, and her mind blotted out the rest of the world, ignoring the three Pokémon still trying to imitate her movements, difficult as it was for the quadrupeds. Sparks moved more fluently, having been copying Wing in this since the first day of her training.

The rest of the world was unimportant while she trained. As she completed her stretching exercises Wing's mind cut her off from the world, ignoring the two angry Pokémon inside Pokéballs, lying harmlessly against a tree, not noticing the Eevee pair giving up and moving off to the side, disregarding her faithful Sparkachu, who was staying in perfect sync.

Then Wing's hands snapped out in punches, and her routine began. She practised the punches she had admitted to Rowan were lacking, refined her kicks, and all the while kept her balance correct, even hampered by her leg. But somehow, even the leg was unimportant now. All that mattered was her and the movements, the attacks that had saved her life more than once when her Pokémon couldn't get to her in time.

Every time one of her movements was out of sync she winced, imagining the blow that would have followed if she was up against another opponent. Wing repeated the inaccurate movements over again, swearing under her breath every time she got them wrong once more. She was really going to have to get stuck into her training.

The Master paused, breathing heavily. It was fully dark, now, and it would be a good idea to get some sleep, but she had to finish her routine. Easily, she picked up her staff and twirled it, spinning it slowly over the back of her hand and back into her palm like a cheerleader's baton. She picked up speed as Sparks fetched her own stick from the forest they were in, creating a powerful windmill of wood and air. Her own hair, carefully tied out of the way in a firm plait and doubly restrained by her white and gold headscarf, was stirring slightly with the force of it.

Sparks's own rod of wood was spinning now, as well, but she dropped it occasionally and had to start over. But she was determined to do this. If her Master could do this, so could she.

Wing flicked her staff into the air with her thumb and it spiralled into the air, starlight gleaming over its carved and polished surface, still spinning smoothly, and as it came down she caught it and began to snap it through the air, bracing it against her hands in defence and lashing out in stabs, sweeps and slices. Her feet shifted smoothly, never staying in one spot for more than a second or two before changing again.

Wing's training, her own personal regime, was hammered into her system from repeating it day after day. In the last few weeks she may have not had time or the seclusion to practise, having been rather busy, but the movements were all too familiar, and her hands and feet flew easily, remembering what had to be done.

"Kiiyaa!" She finished her routine with an overhead strike – potentially fatal with proper force. Wing landed smoothly afterwards and her feet stopped moving, holding her still and balanced. For four seconds she remained frozen with her staff in the completed strike position, breathing heavily, before she crumpled sideways.

Trick and Ace yelped in fear and bolted towards her; Sparks had already dropped her stick and was now crouched over her Master, cheeks sparking with anxiety. The electricity was the only light: Wing hadn't bothered to light a fire.

Wing was already propping herself up, one hand protectively holding her bad leg as the other pushed her off the grass. Sweat glistened on her brow, soaking through her bandana, as the starlight stained all of her a dull silver. She gulped with pain and panted weakly, "Overstretched myself. Shouldn't have tried for so much so soon." The Master grimaced, winded. "Bloody leg."

"_You're an idiot, you know that?"_ a sarcastic mind-voice that Wing hadn't heard for ages rang out. One of the two Pokéballs burst open of its own accord, revealing the sassy psychic.

"I'm well aware of it, Soluna," Wing sighed, knowing full well that even though the silent treatment was over, she was nowhere near forgiven. "Why is this stupid leg so bad?!" she muttered, mostly to herself.

Soluna stepped forwards, and sat at her Master's side, ears flattening slightly as she scanned the leg with a form of psychic vision similar to X-rays. _"Do you remember the splints and binding I put in there to keep it together while it healed, so you wouldn't have to get a heavy, cumbersome cast?"_ Wing nodded, ignoring the scathing tinge to the Espeon's telepathic voice. No sounds were being issued from her mouth: this was all mental. But at the time of breakage, she had been on the run and unwilling to be slowed by the heavy bandage required for broken limbs_. "Jirachi knows how but it's gone. Half of them have healed, but two of the full breaks are still there and one or two still count as fractures. The ends of the breaks have been grating together, it's no wonder you've been limping. I'm surprised you could put any weight on it at all."_

Wing blinked for a few seconds before opening her mouth again. "That explains a lot and it raises even more questions… two of which are 'where the hell did the strapping go' and 'how do I fix it this time'?"

The Espeon tossed her head lightly and smirked at the two Eevee, who glared back from across their Master. _"I believe one of your enemies may have had a hand in the removal of the binding,"_ she explained in a high-and-mighty tone. _"I've already put up a psychic barrier around the weakened areas and breaks. Provided you don't do anything stupid it'll be totally healed in a couple of months."_ She stood up and dipped her head respectfully to Sparks: she was, after all, Wing's first Pokémon. _"No one is going to remove this splint but me."_

Wing sat up fully, gingerly moving her leg and finding the broken bone to be totally numb and feeling steadier than usual. Her Espeon, one of her oldest friends, was still so much the same. Sassy, smart-mouthed and sharp-tongued, compassionate but cold, fiery but controlled. So much of her was in opposition with itself, from the deep blue eyes that could shine with glee and sparkle with anger in the space of a few seconds, to the clash of her soft lavender fur against the fire of the ruby jewel she used to help focus her power even more. All the way down to her name. Sol. Luna. Opposition. Balance. "Thanks, Soluna," she said quietly.

The Espeon's ears pricked: her version of a raised eyebrow. "If I am so valuable, why was I abandoned to Professor Cedar for a year?"

The tension in all of Wing's Pokémon rose as they waited for her response, but Wing herself looked her Espeon directly in the eye and said, "See for yourself."

An open invitation.

Soluna focused her psychic power and entered the girl's mind, searching out the one specific memory she wanted. Wing sat quietly, not resisting or interfering in the least, but allowing her Pokémon, her friend, the chance to understand.

"_Soluna, Zeek, I have to send you to Professor Cedar's for a while," I said calmly, even though I was sobbing on the inside._

_Zeek accepted it silently, as I knew he would, but there was a touch of shock, disappointment and despair in his red-eyed gaze. I felt my own eyes tingling, as they shifted colours, as my Pokémon's pain asserted itself. Soluna was the more fiery of the pair, despite the peaceful stereotype of an Espeon, as she proved now._

_She leaped to her feet, fur bristling and unbridled fury in her sapphire eyes. "For what reason?" she demanded in my mind, tail lashing in fury. Espeon communicated often with body language: for it to be so fierce, she was superbly angry. I felt a touch of misery at what I was doing, but it was overwhelmed by their emotions._

"_I'm going somewhere very dangerous, too dangerous for any of you to come," I said emotionlessly, even though every syllable tore me up on the inside. "I'd rather not even take Sparks, but we're too closely connected. It would kill both of us. Once I get back I'll fetch you." And then I returned them to their balls, not waiting for an answer, an argument, or even a goodbye._

_A tear landed on one of the two red and white orbs I now cradled in my hands. "Sorry Sol, Zeek," I whispered. Another tear fell, splashing the balls with clear liquid. "But if they get their hands on any of you I would never forgive myself." Soluna was raging inside her ball, trying to escape and give me the loudest rant of my life, even though it was difficult for Espeon to vocalise, but I tightened my grip, forcing her to stay put and torture me with hateful thoughts. Zeek was simply silent and miserable, but the lone thought I picked up from him was, "Goodbye, Master Wing."_

_Even after I transferred them to Cedar, all the way in Blackthorn City (at least that's where I assumed she was), I could still hear Soluna's violent anger directed at me, and it wasn't until I reached the Hoenn region that she was too far away for me to pick anything up._

_But any closer than a hundred kilometres and I could hear her cursing me, as I discovered on a boat trip some time later. It nearly broke me, that trip._

_You didn't want to?_

Soluna hissed wildly, thinking, _No! She abandoned us! She had to want to or she wouldn't have done so!_

She turned roughly to another memory, dragging it into the open more carelessly than she should have, and Wing flinched. Unless done gently, psychic invasion is very painful, and Soluna was getting angry.

_No!_

She dredged through the emotions, tearing through Wing's mind like a hyper Vigoroth with a sledgehammer. Wing flinched at the rough intrusions but still didn't fight back, even as Soluna began to jab at her purposely, trying to discover a truth that wasn't there.

Until she came across one last memory of a riverside.

_Tears. Did I ever stop crying these days? I laughed, but it was strangled and humourless. It was a struggle to draw breath but never once did it catch in my throat. I did not sob. Every tear was soundless, or had been until that choked laugh._

_I looked into the river, and it wasn't me who looked back. I didn't recognise myself. I wasn't the same person who had left them behind._

_I laughed again; stifled, choked, smothered. I was trapped here. No matter how free I was, I was trapped._

_And still I laughed, even as tears streamed down my face._

Soluna drew back slowly, retreating into her own mind, as the Master shuddered and retook her own mental processes.

"_You hated yourself,"_ said Soluna slowly. The Master in question slowly raised her hands to her head, pinning her fingers to her temples. _"Every moment of every day, from the second you put us into our balls, you hated yourself for giving us up."_

Wing stayed silent, still rather dizzy.

"She hated herself," Sparks agreed suddenly, having been silent during the entire invasion, even when her Master winced in pain. "Every day she told herself off for being selfish enough to give you up. She couldn't handle it if any of us got hurt, and she called herself weak and selfish for knowing it. Wing knew you'd be pissed at her, but she missed you guys too much to_ not_ get you back and risk you pinning her to a tree and smothering her with psychic energy."

Wing blinked at her, the powerful headache she'd received from the attack slowly abating. "That was quite a speech for you, Miss shut-the-hell-up-and-everyone-duck."

"Thanks."

The Eevee squeaked their assent, not in actual words, but just sounds that conveyed emotions. They were getting quite good at it.

It was completely dark now that Sparks's electricity was back under control, only the stars and a sliver of moon lighting up the clearing. They sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, looking up at the stars, before Wing said, "Okay, I've made up with Soluna. Now for Zeek."

At the mention of his name, the Absol's Pokéball opened, allowing the dark-type inside access to the outside world. He didn't speak, just looked at her silently, and that stung her more than any insult.

He hadn't changed much at all. His head was still even with Wing's hip, and his ebony head blade was just as keen as always. He still held himself proudly, knowing himself to be a powerful opponent, and when he moved, stepping forwards, he still moved with an unnaturally feline grace. His long white fur was snowy and silken, the shorter down around his paws and face a crisp jet. His eyes still gleamed with ruby fire.

"Hello, Zeek," she said, her voice still even and controlled.

He raised his head to look her directly in the eyes. Not defiance, not anger, but fading sadness, confusion… and pride? Hope? What was that emotion, hidden in the ruby depths?

"Why?" he asked softly.

Wing looked at the Espeon, and Soluna began to tug at her memories again. Wing yelped and glared at her, bringing up mental barriers to deny her access. "Not again! It hurt enough the first time! I can cut you _some _slack, but not enough for two invasions! You do it again and I'll black out! Just send him your memories of the memories… did that make sense?"

She scowled playfully and focused on Zeek once more: he began to glow softly in a pale blue aura, the colour of Soluna's psychic power. He was usually immune to psychic energy and attacks, but… Soluna seemed to be a special case. She could throw him around telekinetically, speak telepathically and hit him with psychic energy that no other psychic type could. Wing had never pitted her against another dark type, so she didn't know if it was limited to Zeek through a bond of some description or if Soluna just kicked butt against dark type.

As the scenes played out in his mind Zeek remained impassive, until the very last one. As Soluna completed the transfer and the blue glow faded, he looked back up at his Master with understanding, and even a touch of compassion. Then he bowed: a strange habit of respect Wing had never been able to teach him otherwise.

"Master Wing," he said in his low, soulful voice, "it is good to have you back."

Unable to stand it any longer, Wing pulled her two old friends into a hug. They both leaned into her, breathing in the long-remembered scent of their Master.

"_Now…"_ said Soluna innocently, beginning to glow faintly. _"What's with the brats?"_ The Eevee squeaked indignantly.

Wing grinned. Trouble was in her camp once more, in the form of a snow-and-soot canine who acted feline and a silken lavender foxy cat. "I missed this. Really I did."

Even though she was in for a long night.


	13. Mystery: First

Twin2: Ahh. I love Wing in one of her dangerous moods. I should write her like this more often… It really is her character.

By the way, she may not seem it for a while, but trust me, she gets dangerous as we go along.

I actually had to draw maps for this story. I've only got the Johto and Hoenn ones finished, y'know, labelled and coloured and scaled and everything, but we'll probably meander off into Kanto and, if I get bored, Sinnoh later on.

----

**Thirteen: Mystery: First**

7th June, summer

----

"To where do we travel, Master Wing?" Zeek asked. They were padding along a little-used trail, the Eevee sitting either on Wing's head (Ace) or Zeek's back (Trick). Soluna moved with her usual ease and superiority, and Sparks was balanced on Wing's shoulder. Quite a circus.

"I, um, _overheard_ one of Rowan's conversations," Wing explained with an innocent smile.

Soluna rolled her eyes. _"You mean you eavesdropped."_

"Well, yeah, but I was bored, and it was interesting." Wing grinned sheepishly, then shook herself, spinning her staff idly over the back of her hand, still walking calmly down the path. "It might have been interesting, but it seemed fairly random until two nights back, when it suddenly became very important indeed. Something big happened up near Verdanturf, and while I don't know what, it seriously upset the Pokémon near there and word's travelled all the way down here. It happened about a week ago, and they're seriously upset."

"So that's why you were acting so uptight and stiff the night you left," Sparks commented, her sharp tail waving slightly as she shifted her weight to keep her balance. Since Soluna and Zeek had returned, she had become more talkative. Much like Wing.

"Well, it was that, and… Zanna's in trouble." The Pokémon turned to her sharply, and yes, her eye colour was changing, swirling through red, blue and black, before altering swiftly to a hard, clear white. It was a creepy effect, particularly the white, and they turned away again just as fast, walking on.

When wild Pokémon were upset near Wing, she would know, but she didn't feel it as keenly as with her bonded fighters, her battling Pokémon. And it wouldn't change her eye colour. She could block out the wild ones, ignore them (however much she hated to), but the pain and emotions of her battlers cut through her barriers like a knife, and her eyes started to change colours – the first signal of something wrong. So Zanna was in trouble. Serious trouble, for Pokémon this far south to hear of the event.

The only reason she had lost control in the Aqua base was the sheer volume of the Pokémon crying out to her. It was as instinctive to them as it was to her: they knew she could hear them, so they called. She knew she could help, so she listened.

"I knew it had something to do with what I heard about Team Magma, so I left that night in search of Zanna and a spot of adventure, after picking up you two, of course, and now here we are."

"So where are we going?" Sparks asked blankly.

"I have a bone to pick with Team Magma, two, actually, and a favour to cash in."

"Steven told you just three days ago that no one knows where they are," Sparks reminded her dryly.

"That's the favour I want." Wing's hand moved up to the comset in her ear – a handsfree phone. The microphone extended midway down her cheek, just close enough to pick up the soundwaves of the Master's voice. Her fingers entered a number into the tiny keypad, and the beeps echoed deafeningly in the earpiece.

It rang twice before the phone was picked up and a harsh voice barked, "What?!"

"Dell, it's Mystery. You owe me big and I need info, fast." Wing's Pokémon were interested by her change in tone: from friendly and open to darkly business-like and dangerous.

There was a groan from the earpiece. "You drive a bloody hard bargain –"

"I saved your life, you ungrateful twat," Wing interrupted. "You're not in the position to set the rules. You give me this info and you're off the hook."

Now there was a pause. "Damn, Mystery, this must be important. What do you need?"

"I need to know the locations of all of Team Magma's new bases, now. I don't have time to find Maxie, and even if I did I doubt he'd help me. He'd probably laugh, actually."

Through the handsfree phone she heard the distinctive clack and clatter of a keyboard being attacked. "Actually, Maxie might well help. He's pissed at being overthrown. If you can get ahold of him you should ask him – hell, he'll probably do most of it himself." Tap-tap-tick-tick-tap. "Here we go. I've emailed the locations to your palmtop. Good luck with whatever you're planning, Mystery."

"Good luck to you too, Dell. I know you're up to something; you always are. We're clear now."

The palmtop beeped, and the girl Dell only knew as Mystery hung up the comset, shutting off the link and accessing the maps Dell had sent her.

"Suspected as much," she muttered, still walking. Her companions watched her silently, waiting for her to explain.

Wing tapped the screen twice (not with her stylus, which was sitting forgotten behind one ear, but with a fingernail), then knelt down to let the Pokémon see the map. "We're somewhere around here," she explained, pointing to a splash of green near Petalburg City. "Dammit, I need a hologram. Zanna was being looked after by a friend of mine near Verdanturf –" she shifted her finger's position to a spot just east of the little town. "There's a shelter on top of the tunnel that you can only get to if you know the path –" the brown mountain that housed the Rusturf tunnel was poked. "And the nearest Magma base, according to Dell's program, is about ten k's north of there, up the mountain range." She stabbed at the blinking red point that signalled the base viciously. "I'd expect it to be from there that the problems are coming from. So that's our target."

"How do we get there?" Sparks asked bluntly. "They could do anything in the week it'd take us to walk there, even with your shortcuts."

"We have a few options there. If Sol would lower herself to it she could Teleport us to Verdanturf – from there it's eighteen, twenty k's to the base. If she doesn't have the strength for it, then if he will agree to it, Zeek could carry me with the rest of you in Pokéballs. If he doesn't think he's up to it, I'll walk and run by turns as fast and as hard as I can." She shrugged, making light of what was close to a hundred-and-fifty kilometre journey. Well, a hundred and fifty by road, probably only eighty by her shortcut trails.

Soluna rolled her eyes. _"I'll Teleport us,"_ she grumbled. _"Got somewhere safe for us to go?"_

"That was why I pointed out the shelter cave." Soluna never teleported to crowded places like Pokémon Centres or town halls – it attracted too much attention. As she allowed the blue glow to overtake her fellow Pokémon and her Master the Espeon concentrated on the small cave Wing had discovered some years ago and used as a supplies store and a safe Teleport point.

----

"It's cold," said Zeek, peering out from the cave entrance. True, they were much further north than before, and the temperature _was_ a little chillier than normal, even for this part of the world. But she didn't need reminding – Wing wasn't fond of cold.

"I know."

"_It's dark,"_ said Soluna grumpily from her corner. It was, too – about midnight.

"I _know._"

"I'm bored," said Sparks emotionlessly. That was about as bad as news came.

"_I know_."

"And it's cold," the electric-type added, just to annoy her.

"I KNOW!" Wing stuck her fingers in her ears, grumbling to herself. "Dammit, if I'd paid more attention in chemistry class I'd know how to make a tranquillizer!"

"_They teach you that stuff in school?"_ Soluna asked, a hint of shock in her mind-tone.

"Yeah. I only paid attention to the explosive stuff, though. We didn't do that very often so I taught myself. I don't know why. But all the knowledge I've accumulated about explosives has been coming in handy in the recent years of my life. Right now though, I just wish I knew how to make a tranquillizer!" Wing glared at her Sparkachu, who was now belting out an off-tune lullaby like it was the latest rock song. "I hate you, some days."

Soluna glowed discreetly and Sparks clutched at her throat, suddenly wheezing and silent. "What did you do?" Wing asked, unplugging her ears cautiously.

"_Just put psychic pressure on her voice box to shut her up. It won't kill her, or even hurt her, but she won't be able to make a sound for a few hours."_

"Pissing off a psychic is a bad idea," Zeek commented wisely from the edge of the cave, looking back at his friends. "Master Wing, why must we wait?"

"I'd really rather not go in there until a little before dawn," Wing admitted. "It's no good going in the dead of night; someone'll be awake, either a coffee-fuelled researcher or a paid security officer. But just before dawn, everyone who is up is too exhausted to notice much." She sighed. "I wish I knew how to make sleeping gas. But that stuff, and computers, they're more Rowan's area. I passed chemistry but it was too boring for me to learn anything aside from explosive chemicals, and ditto for Information Technology."

Wing sat up: she had been lying flat on the floor of the cave, glaring at the pockmarked ceiling, but now she began to investigate the rest of the cave, poking around the shadowy corners and using her bad leg more than Soluna would have liked.

"_Are you _trying_ to hurt yourself?"_ she growled, her ruby glowing faintly in warning. _"Anyone would think you liked being hurt."_

"I have to keep it used, Sol," Wing replied, not looking up from shifting piles of rocks with her staff and feet. "If I don't, it'll stiffen up and get weaker, and then even once it's healed it'll be a weakness for me until I can get it strong again. And I need it for balance. So, even if it takes an extra month to heal, I have to keep moving. Keep the leg stretched and ready, even if it hurts." She winced, a barely perceptible change of her features, and sat down on a boulder, shrugging noncommittally. "I just have to keep moving, Soluna. It's in my nature."

"No kidding," Sparks agreed. "You just can't stop moving – always looking for action. Never wait for it to come to you, just storm out into the world and either find some or cause it."

"I'm not that bad! At least I didn't blow up the science labs before I left school to go on my journey," Wing said, a little sulkily. "You wouldn't let me. Even though that place had been a source of torture for months and you bloody knew it!"

"_Did you learn _anything_ at school?"_ Soluna asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, of course! How to set off fire alarms from a distance, how _not _to jump out a window, how to instigate mass panic in crowds and how to make a bomb out of a computer monitor."

"_You didn't like Information Technology, did you?"_ Soluna muttered.

"Nope. The computers hated me. I can do basic stuff – like accessing, some very base programming, but anything more and I have to leave it to Rowan or a contact like Dell. Before you ask, I met Dell on a rampage through a Rocket base and saved his sorry ass from getting fried. So he's owed me for it, til now." Wing frowned. "Although, I think I can remember a basic computer virus…"

"I don't even want to know," said Zeek with a smooth roll of his garnet eyes.

----

Wing darted down a smooth white corridor that simply shone with falseness. Pretending to be something it most certainly wasn't. Friendly. Cheerful. Safe.

She rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a very sleepy-looking guard. He yawned in her face and began to drone. "This is a restricted access area, and I dunno how you got in, little girl, but be a good little girl and find your way back out."

Wing coughed and waved her hand in front of her face. "Breath mint, anyone?" she asked sarcastically. All of her Pokémon were in their Pokéballs, even Sparks, and they waited with bated breath to see how this would turn out. Soluna checked Wing's leg and the barriers holding it together regularly – but she hadn't done anything to seriously damage it. And the psychic energy absorbed most of the pain Wing caused just by standing on it. The Espeon had no idea how Wing had handled the pain before fetching her out from Professor Cedar.

The guard frowned, still looking dazed. "Are you making fun of me, kid? Just get out of here. It's, like, three a.m.…" He paused, and the frown deepened to a suspicious glare. "What the hell are you doing in here at three a.m.?"

"Beating the crap out of you and anyone else who happens to get in my way," Wing replied pleasantly.

The guard nodded tiredly and sat back down. "You do that, kid." He paused again. "Wait a minute…"

Wing's staff caught him on the side of the head.


	14. Zanna the Fierce

Twin2: The title will be explained later in the story. Or maybe even in this chapter if you think on it for a while.

---

Fourteen: Zanna the Fierce

---

"That was too easy," Wing complained, striding down the whitewashed hall.

"_Just be on your guard,_" Soluna advised her, still in the safety of her Pokéball. "_Don't get cocky, don't get noisy, and don't attract attention to yourself._"

"Oh no, it's not that I think it was a fake. That guard hadn't slept in days. No, my problem is that that was BORING!" Wing threw up her hands in exasperation, making the keyring she had pickpocketed from the snoring guard jangle. "I was hoping for a good fight."

"_And yet again, I am made aware of the fact that one of the world's strongest Masters is completely insane,_" Soluna sighed. "_I can't believe I forgot._"

Wing found the door she was looking for and paused for a second, making sure that her connection to Zanna was clear, and then unlocked the door, only fumbling with the wrong key twice.

"_That's gotta be a record,_" Soluna muttered as the Master stepped into the room.

"Hey! It's not my fault there are so many stupid doors in these places!" Wing hissed, her eyes scanning the room. It was filled not with cages like she'd been cynically suspecting, but pens, and quite comfortable ones, too. Maybe Team Magma had been taken over by someone smart for once…

The Pokémon inside them looked mostly quite cheerful, or if not that, usually at least content. Some of them seemed less than happy, and Wing took note of the numbers on the outside of those pens, stopping to stroke each of the sadder Pokémon as she passed them. _Don't worry,_ she said silently to a frankly miserable-looking Kirlia. _I'm going to help you._

But Zanna took priority. As Wing moved swiftly down the aisles she became aware of the sounds of a struggle nearby. A Pokémon shrieked, followed by lots of human swearing. Wing turned a corner, then another, before stopping dead to raise an eyebrow at the scene before her.

Four men were waving ropes and nets, shouting various bad words that Sparks occasionally used if she was especially pissed off, and trying to corner a flapping Swellow. The Swellow was shrieking defiantly and even as Wing watched dove down and wrestled a rope from one of the men, tearing it to shreds in midair.

If it wasn't an anime cliché she'd have sweatdropped. "These people have no idea how to handle a flying type," she muttered irritably, and strode forward.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?!" she bellowed when she was just behind them, tapping one foot and trying to imitate a higher-up in the facility as much as she could remember.

"We're trying to get this damn bird under control!" one of them snapped, wielding a net with obvious ill-practice.

"No, you're failing at getting the bird under control," Wing growled. "You do not wave nets at birds! Honestly! And who let her out of the pen in the first place, anyway?!"

"She got out on her own!" another yelled. "Blasted bird, you'd think she was a Trainer's!"

Wing had had quite enough of this. She slammed the nearest person with her staff and he collapsed. It was only a matter of seconds before they were all sprawled on the ground, unconscious. She shook her head, glaring at their bodies, before looking up at the ceiling, where the blue and red bird was hanging upside-down from a light fitting.

"Anyone would think you're a Zubat," she grumbled. "Alright, Zanna-girl, fun's over. You can come down now."

The bird glared at her and shrieked, "Why did you knock out the guards? I was having fun!"

Wing rolled her eyes again. Of course, this was a familiar action when Zanna was around: the bird was sassy beyond belief, cheeky, a prankster, and one of the fastest Pokémon who fought alongside Wing. She could be a pain to deal with, but it was really one of her charms.

"Zanna, I apologise for interrupting your game, but we didn't have time to mess around. We still don't, because I've decided I want to visit the guy in charge of this facility. So get your tail feathers down here!"

The bird regarded her carefully for a few more seconds before swooping down and landing on the concrete floor, talons clattering. She cocked her head to look the Master in the eye, and Wing looked back calmly, waiting for the verdict.

It was a bit of a shock when Zanna swept her wings back in an unmistakable bow. Wing's eyes, now changing from their purplish blend to the usual brown, widened. "Cripes, Zanna, it's bad enough when Zeek does it! Not you, too!"

"Master Wing," said the Swellow solemnly, completely ignoring the girl's complaint, "it is good to have you back with us."

Wing sighed. "That's what Zeek said, too. Now, Zanna, can you tell me what's going on in here?"

The Swellow rose from her bow and nodded. "Yes. Team Magma has been capturing wild Pokémon with nets. They were sweeping the forest near where I was, and when I went out to help the Pokémon I got stuck in the nets. We are well-treated here, even when they are training us. So far none of us have been injured in any way, but five of us – six including me – belong to Trainers. They're moping. I was trying to figure a way out."

Wing nodded as well and started to walk, Zanna clicking along beside her. "I suspected as much. I took down their numbers and I'm going to tell the high-up in here to let 'em go or deal with me." She swung the keys on one finger. "I'd release them myself, but it'd take too long. I'm too fumble-fingered when it comes to keys and locks – Rowan's better than me with that."

"The wild Pokémon are all perfectly content," Zanna continued. "They're well treated and none of them are pining or anything – they're all happy."

Wing bobbed her head again and turned a corner. "That's good."

"Hey! What the –" Great. They'd run into a three-grunt patrol. "Kid, get away from that thing! It'll tear you apart!"

Wing glanced up at her old friend. "What _did _you do to leave such a lasting impression on these people?" Zanna would've grinned had she a mouth instead of a beak, but Wing read the smile in the bird's twinkling eyes and rolled her own.

She didn't say anything to the Swellow and instead barked at the men, "You! I want to see the guy in charge, right now!"

"Kid, I'm not joking, step away from the bird!" one of them ordered, now levelling a (hopefully only) tranquillizer gun at Zanna.

Wing growled and stepped in front of the bird. "Fire that gun and you're going to have Zeek, Soluna and Sparks on your neck," she warned. "And trust me, they'll be pissed. I am going to see the guy in charge of this operation and I don't care if I have to kick your asses to the moon and back to get to him! Comprendé?"

Whatever these guys did, they were not paid to antagonise and/or obstruct Pokémon Masters. They led her to the right office and let her in, eyes still on the apparently dangerous Zanna.

The room was dark. _What a cliché,_ Wing thought in annoyance. Still, the shadows would help hide her face. If possible, she'd like to go through this without anyone figuring out who she was. A man of maybe thirty years was bent over paperwork on the desk, only a small lamp lighting the room. Wing _could _have just waited for him to notice her, but the young Master waited for no one. She threw the keys onto the desk to get his attention and he glanced up, blinking at her owlishly.

"Yes?" he asked, then, upon spotting Zanna, yelped. "Did that bird escape again? She's a right escape artist. She didn't manage to hurt you, did she?"

Wing sighed. "Zanna wouldn't hurt me, not on purpose or unless she was really mad at me. No, sir, I didn't come to complain about the bird flying free, I came to investigate this operation and shut it down if I had to."

The man blinked again. "Why would you want to shut it down? The Pokémon here are mostly happy. We do not harm them in any way, and the ecosystem is undamaged by their removal. We have been monitoring the area we caught them from, and other Pokémon have already moved into the area in their stead."

Wing nodded and leaned on the desk, glaring him in the eye, looking for signs of deceit. "Correct, but you disturbed the other Pokémon, those who didn't get caught. They're basically over it now, but the main reason I came here was you inadvertently captured Zanna at the same time, and I don't take kindly to my Pokémon being captured by other people."

"Oh, so that's why she was always so upset?" the man asked. "We thought that must have been it, or something similar, because she wouldn't let anyone touch her and tried to escape at every opportunity."

"Correct, again. I came to pick her up. But also, the Pokémon in pens 39, 51, 52, 64 and 78 are Trainer's Pokémon, and if you don't release them immediately then I will." Her voice was flat and calm, unapologetic. It was Team Magma's fault for catching all of these Pokémon without even checking their Trainer records.

The man was already dialling a number. "Professor? Yes, Professor, the Pokémon in pens 39, 51, 52, 64, and… did you say 78?" Wing nodded. "And 78 have to be released. Immediately. That is all. Thank you." He hung up and turned back to his unexpected intruder. "Well, if that's all, I think I'd like to know who you are to have come in here so easily, and to know which of our Pokémon belonged to Trainers."

Wing shrugged. "Knowing the Trainer Pokémon is an instinct, and Zanna pointed them out to me as we went by," she explained, lying smoothly. Talking to Pokémon was an unusual bond, and she felt she'd caused enough of a stir already. "And your only outside guard was half-asleep. It wasn't so hard. But as for who I am… Well, if you start to mistreat these Pokémon, I'll know, and I'll come back, with reinforcements. Treat 'em well, and you may as well forget I exist."

Wing put one hand on Zanna and tapped Soluna's Pokéball: the signal. Immediately the two of them were engulfed in blue light, and even as they Teleported out, the man shouted, "Guards! Come in here! Who was that?!"

----

"Teach him to mess with us," Sparks said cheerfully.

Zanna screeched her agreement, soaring overhead, keeping a close eye on the twisting path below.

"Where are we going now, Master Wing?" Zeek asked.

The Master shrugged, her eyes finally their normal brown. "I dunno. Why plan things out if they'll work out just fine on their own? Just let things happen around you and act accordingly. I walk where my feet take me."

"_You don't plan much, do you?_" Soluna said sarcastically.

"I don't like to. Just let things happen. React. And sometimes, if you need to, act before it happens." Her eyes shone slightly. "Sometimes you have to be faster. And sometimes even that little bit of extra speed isn't enough."

A tinkling beep in her ear distracted the Master, and she tapped the receive button without even thinking about it. "Yes?"

"WING!" Rowan bellowed.

"Ow," said Wing, smiling in spite of herself. "I'd forgotten I'd left you that phone."

There was a pause, before he asked, "How the hell did you get into my room without me sensing you? No, never mind, that's not important, why the heck did you run off again? Where are you?"

Wing shook her head, her smile widening. "I was just picking up an old friend." Her Pokémon were watching her curiously, only able to hear one side of the conversation, and wondering why she was smiling like that. Sparks pressed her head up against the earpiece and just managed to catch Rowan's retort of, "And what was so insane about that mission that I couldn't come?"

"The old friend was stuck inside an enemy base," Wing replied. "I didn't know if they were hostile or not, so I figured to play it safe."

"_And she says she never plans anything,_" Soluna muttered.

Wing listened to Rowan's inquisition, neatly dodging around any answers she didn't want to give (like where she was), but as he finally gave up and began to talk normally, she relaxed a little, smiling and nodding as she walked along.

"I've got a new mission in Lavaridge," Rowan said, having accepted that Wing wouldn't tell him where she was. "Apparently there have been some weirdos running around there, and Flannery can't handle them on her own. There aren't many Trainers in Lavaridge and it's pretty easy to wipe them out with a ground- or water-type. So I'm going to go back her up, see what's going on."

Wing nodded slowly, checking her compass bearing. North by north-east. Hmm…

"Good luck with the mission, Rowan, and say hi to Rue for me," she said, and abruptly hung up.

"_What was that for?_" Soluna asked. "_I was enjoying that conversation._"

"Probably best that I interrupted it, then." Wing smiled sardonically, one side of her mouth twisting up more than the other. "But my feet seem to have decided we're going to be making an unscheduled stop in the near future."

Zeek smiled, eyes glinting. "It is time we told the world that our Master is back in action."

"It's past time," Wing agreed. "The world has almost forgotten who we are. I think it's time we reminded them."


	15. Lavaridge Challenge

Twin2: I went Wing's point of view for this chapter because I wanted to give you an insight into how she thinks. I'll probably swap back and forth between first and third person for this story, but each chapter will be just one, and I'll warn you beforehand if I'm changing it. Just thought I'd mention that before we got started.

I would like to dedicate this chapter to Drakoleses, because it was his review that got this chapter up to fourteen pages long and finished!

----

**Fifteen: Lavaridge Challenge**

9th June, summer

----

"Where are we going?" the little electric-type asked, again.

"Wherever my feet take us, which is currently north by north-east," I replied, again, somewhat testily. "I'd forgotten how much you lot liked to ask questions. I certainly remember teaching you to question the world around you, but it's so important that I don't quite regret it yet."

The path was turning rocky. All of my other Pokémon were in their balls, and it was difficult enough for me to balance on the uneven trails without Sparks randomly shifting position all the time or jumping into nearby trees for no reason. Which she was doing.

But as long as she didn't knock me over or scare any native Pokémon into attacking, I guess I didn't particularly mind. I just kept moving, keeping a close eye out for the town I knew would be coming up over the horizon sooner or later – more likely sooner than later.

Even expecting it, it was still a slight shock to walk up the last rise and overlook Lavaridge Town again. I sighed, fighting the usual urge to just turn away and walk on, away from anyone who might know me, away from civilisation. But I had a duty. I began to move down the slope, the ashy dirt under my feet slipping me up occasionally, until I blessed both my staff and Soluna's mental bandaging on my broken leg. If not for them, I probably would have collapsed _years _ago.

From what I could see, there were about half a dozen Pokémon battles happening simultaneously around the once-peaceful town, between grim-faced Gym Trainers and tall, muscly men and women outfitted in black. Evidently the Skyler force (consisting of at least Rowan, I knew) hadn't arrived yet: I knew all of the Gym Trainers here, and all of them looked completely wiped.

Slowly my face twisted into a fierce grin, baring my teeth at the fight to come. If I could distract them all at once…

I made it to the bottom of the slope and immediately set off down the nearest street, towards one of the fights, beginning to consider what I could do. But planning, whatever little Wing Benden was prone to do, was thrown out the window as I heard and sensed someone with irate Pokémon in their balls coming up behind me.

I reacted immediately, feeling extremely thankful that I had gotten back into my fighting routine as I struck out backwards with my staff in a slice that knocked a blade from the man's hand before rapping him sharply on the chin. He stumbled away with a curse as I whipped around and I glared into his eyes. It is unwise to mess with a Master. I was going to show him why.

"Hey Sparks, remember that combustion technique we were working on a while back?" _A few years, more like._ "See if you can pull that off. I want to try my hand at a six-on-one hand-to-hand fight while you guys take on their Pokémon. Sound like a plan?"

Sparks grinned. "I knew there was a reason you're my friend," she said, and began to charge up energy. Forming the sphere that was the "bomb" casing had taken practice, but once you got this technique, you got it. That was one reason I had taken up the Coordinator path for a while: the different way of looking at attacks had been interesting, for a while. Now, it meant you could never predict what I would do next. I thought it was funny; Rowan had told me, more than once, that from the sidelines it was entertaining and from the other end of the field, downright frightening.

The bomb was nearly finished charging: electricity crackled in a sphere bigger than Sparks herself, and as she set it off with a powerful shot of lightning, the Pokémon whipped around and slammed it with her tail, sending the attack soaring through the air before it exploded in a crackling burst of energy.

The bang it produced didn't faze me in the slightest, I having been used to it years before, but all of the other combatants came sprinting from their various clearings and alleys to stare in shock at this new, and evidently powerful, contender.

"Gym Trainers," said I clearly, glancing around at the five of them. They looked wiped, both they and their Pokémon exhausted, covered in soot and gashes. "Scramble. Get back to Flannery and lie low. I'll take care of these guys."

They knew who I was immediately: not a one of them could forget the confident Master who had trounced them without a single water or ground-type in her party. They also knew that a) I had come to help, and b) I could take of myself. They scarpered, bolting as fast as they could back towards the relative safety of their Gym. Most of them were older than me, had been training for longer, but they knew that if Wing Benden was here, the fight was about to get dangerous.

In seconds the street was deserted, aside from me, Sparks, and the six attackers: four men and two women. One of them was holding a handkerchief to his bloodied lip, a tribute to how hard a startled Master could strike.

I took stock of their Pokémon and Pokéballs: the two women had three Pokémon each, two each already out and one in reserve, both of the ones out already being a Mightyena and a Pokémon called a Glameow that I only recognised faintly as a foreign Pokémon. I was going to have to catch up on the new ones being discovered; perhaps something bad about staying so out of touch. Two of the men had only two Pokémon each, both already out, making a total of two Zubat, a Machop and a Cubone. The third man had four Pokémon and only one was out: a Nidorino. The last man had six balls at his belt, I realised with a mental curse, but none of them had been released yet.

"Twenty on four," I mused. "I can't let Ace or Trick fight, no way."

"We've beaten worse odds," Sparks argued, charging power again. "Five to one, that is, and we've beaten fifty each! Have some faith in us, girl!"

I couldn't help grinning. "True." I checked my, our, opponents: most of them, save the one I'd hit with my staff, looked pretty confident. They were one overconfident teenager away from laying siege to the gym, I guessed, so no wonder they'd be secure.

My eyes glittered, I could just tell. My hands were tingling with excitement and I clenched them. Maybe, this would be a little more of a challenge. Time to turn their world upside-down.

"Soluna, Zanna, Zeek!" I roared, and instantly, trained from infancy to respond, they burst out of their separate Pokéballs to land in a circle around me, facing down my enemies. "For honour, courage and loyalty, I will fight to defend my friends and all that is right," I said clearly, a smile slightly less than sane fighting its way onto my face, my eyes beginning to shine.

"_For the one who rescued me when she could have turned away, I will defend my Master and my friend,"_ Soluna spoke out.

"For the one who saved me and all of my kind when the darkest hour arose, I will defend my Master and my friend," Zeek continued.

"For the one who released me when I was needed by others and she needed me, I will defend my Master and my friend," Zanna intoned solemnly.

"For the one who freed me from my prisons and refused to give me up to my enemies at the cost of her own health, I will defend my Master, my friend, and the only mother I knew," Sparks finished.

With every step in our vow, one we'd upheld for years, I felt a little more complete. For almost two years, I hadn't been able to hear these voices, hadn't been able to hear what we considered a sacred vow being recited before every major battle, and while there was still one part missing, I felt as if some part of me that had been cut away was finally beginning to heal.

I grinned. Now for the bit that we all loved.

"Attack at will!"

They immediately leapt, attacking the Pokémon they had an advantage against: I had always taught them to exploit weaknesses and cover their own as best as possible, and as I watched Soluna exercising her powerful Psychic on the Machop and Nidorino simultaneously, Zanna slamming into the Machop in midair and causing it some major damage before stopping the Glameow from interfering with Zeek's fight with the Mightyena, and Sparks releasing the Charge Beam she'd been powering on the two Zubat and anything else that got in the way, I felt proud of everything I had taught them.

Less of a Master, more of a friend.

So it was sappy. Sometimes sappy got you through the nightmares where general strength wouldn't. As much as I hated to admit it, if anything were to happen to my friends at Skyler, whether it was Rowan or his sister, Steven (yes, I know he's an agent) or Cedar, I wouldn't be able to handle it. Not well, anyway. If something happened to one of my Pokémon, well…

The results were rarely pretty. I would barely have enough control to go get them out of the trouble they were in. When I was nine I nearly threw myself off a cliff trying to get to Sparks, but Rowan, ten years old then, held me back, and helped me figure out a slightly more logical way to get her back. He taught me about Pokémon training, teaching me even when he was a ten-year-old Skyler agent, although I didn't know that until much, much later – I was sort of like a little sister to him. A slightly less annoying one, thinking of his _actual _little sister, Taffy.

The humans were encouraging their Pokémon, not trying to attack me myself but trying to get them to attack more efficiently as the backups were released: two Fearow, two Machoke and a Numel.

I grinned, and I could see my Pokémon smirking as well. "Soluna, Zeek, take out the Numel," I requested, becoming a little more involved in the fight. "Now! Zanna, double-A attack pattern!" She looked at me in confusion, but began the intricate aerial movements that constituted the pattern, speeding up as she went. The Fearow were trying to follow her, I noted with glee, as I continued, "Sparks, circle dodge around the Machoke, both of them, and charge power as you go." She immediately used Agility and began to dart in a circle around the fighting-types so fast she left phantom images of herself: this was her 'circle dodge'. Double circle dodge meant she was to use Double Team at the same time. Maybe naming the different patterns was a little odd, but it meant that no other Trainer really knew what I was hollering about.

I waited, now, letting my fighters do their jobs, ignoring the now-unconscious Numel (do not bug Soluna and Zeek. Ever), before shouting out, "Zanna, sweep low and Aerial Ace the Machoke! Sparks, as the Fearow dive, Charge Beam!"

The blue and red Swellow dropped out of the sky and flattened her trajectory in time to _not_ hit the ground, and slammed the two fighting-types simultaneously with either side of her powered-up wings. As she shot past, the Fearow began to dive as well, looking slightly confused after trying to follow Zanna's path, and Sparks released the Charge Beam.

Basically, the Fearow were fried.

As all of the four Pokémon collapsed, I smiled, leaning against my staff a little and resisting a sudden urge to sprint over and give each and every one of my Pokémon a massive hug. As they trotted back to me I lost the fight and swept them up in a hug. "I haven't felt so content in years," I informed them.

"_You need to get out more,"_ said Soluna sardonically.

I smiled again. But it was true. I was completely happy. There was a reason I was a Master. I enjoyed Pokémon battling, not the fighting so much as the challenge.

"Very impressive."

Of course. I had rather forgotten him. I stood up again and faced him, feeling fairly secure with Zanna flying overhead to warn me of any sneak attacks. "Get out," I said evenly. "I'm giving you a chance to abort whatever mission you have here and run before I trounce you like I just did with these five dopes." I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, indicating the five slack-jawed grunts and hoping they didn't decide to jump me while my back was turned: it's hard to use my staff backwards.

He grinned slowly, making me more and more wary with every passing second. "Y'know, kid, I think I like your attitude," he said. "Snappy and to the point. You know what you want, you know how to get it, and you're a good battler."

"Practice makes perfect," I muttered, more to my Pokémon that anything else.

"And we've been practicing for a Mew-awful long time," Sparks agreed.

"We could use someone with your self-assurance and skills on our team. We're for the good of the world, after all. How'd you like to join us?"

I glanced at my nails thoughtfully, leaning against my staff a little more, all the world a casually reflective teenager. "You know…" I said quietly. I surreptitiously surveyed the area: it was mostly flat, with several rocks or boulders scattered around. There wasn't much grass. The dirt was ashy under my feet, but it would provide good grip. "The last time someone asked me that, I threw them in a river." I looked back up and raised my eyebrows. "There aren't any rivers nearby, and _you _would probably pollute the hot springs, so I guess I'll just have to settle for beating the heck out of you myself." I resettled my position, taking a care for my broken leg, _stupid thing._ "Either in a Pokémon battle, or hand to hand, it doesn't matter to me; I'll beat you either way." I allowed myself a fierce smile, baring my teeth in the way Rowan had once told me made me look like an angry canine.

"Seems a shame to injure such a strong fighter," the man declared, "so I challenge you to a Pokémon battle, one-on-one, six Pokémon each."

I couldn't resist. I touched two fingers to my left temple and flicked them away: my signature salute. "Bring it on."

"Gengar, attack!" he cried out, releasing the poison/ghost type from a Pokéball. The purple spirit looked about average to me, no particular surprises. But with ghost-types, you could never really tell.

"Zeek, feel up to a challenge?" I asked him casually, leaning back a little and crossing my arms. It was difficult to handle my staff when I did that, but I'd been dealing with it for all too long, now.

He smiled, taking three steps forward. "My lady, this is not a challenge."

I winced. "Don't call me that, stick with 'Master Wing' if you have to, just don't call me 'my lady'. Sorry, but it's just weird."

He grinned again.

"Gengar, use Focus Punch!"

Aha. That was an unusual move for a Gengar, and it would be a problem for most dark-types. Not one of mine, of course.

"Zeek, faint dodge and comeback!" I decided, and watched him shimmer out of existence to the normal eye. According to Zeek, another dark-type would be at least able to sense his movements, the more specialised actually able to see him, but the Gengar was not a dark type. Faint Attack was such a useful move.

The Gengar was tightening its focus, concentrating energy in its left fist and getting ready to attack my Absol, but Zeek was much faster, leaping out from the shadows and slamming into the ghost with all the force he could muster. And take it from me, that is quite a lot.

The Gengar staggered, its focus completely shot by the unexpected attack, turning to face Zeek, only to find the Absol gone again already, melted into the shadows.

"When you're ready," I said easily, slipping back into my old pattern, my style of battling, and feeling that old trust for my Pokémon building up inside me. I trusted in their judgement during battles, more than any other Trainer would.

The Gengar was shooting confused looks around the arena, probably hoping for some backup or at least an explanation from its Trainer, but its expression hurriedly changed to shock as Zeek materialised in front of it and scored its belly with his teeth in a Crunch movement before vanishing again.

I recognised this attack-style now: hit-and-run. Usually we had only used it when we were up against a very powerful foe, but I guessed Zeek was playing it safe and gauging how strong the Gengar was.

I narrowed my eyes. If Zeek was playing it safe, it would probably be wise for me to do the same.

I studied the Gengar a little more closely. It seemed genuinely surprised at how this battle was going, which either meant it had only ever come up against very weak opponents, it had always had a type advantage, or it was very strong.

I didn't particularly want to risk the latter.

"Leap from behind and Crunch down!" I called, watching Zeek follow the orders with inhuman speed. He sprang from the shadows at Gengar's back, strong rear legs powering him clear over a retaliatory Shadow Ball, before he came back down and bit hard on the Gengar's insubstantial head, dark energy tearing into the ghostly substance.

The Gengar howled with pain and shock, spinning around again to face him as he bounded away. "Finish this with Shadow Ball!"

Sometimes I loved the fact that one of the ghost-type's main weaknesses was its own type.

Zeek powered up the purple sphere as it crackled all over with dark energy, while the Gengar charged its own Shadow Ball, before releasing it with a howl. The Shadow Ball attack ploughed right through the Gengar's, a testament to Zeek's strength, before slamming the ghost right between the eyes.

Down and out.

I'm bound to every Pokémon within range, so, yes, the Gengar's fall hurt me a little. But it was an enemy; I could block it out far better than the cry of an innocent or one of my own truly bonded fighters.

The Gengar was recalled, the man now giving me a look of heightened respect: Zeek hadn't taken a single hit. "Salamence, let's wipe them out!" he shouted, throwing out an oddly-coloured Pokéball; a Timer Ball, if I remembered correctly. But I was really a little busy to care about what Pokéball had been used to catch the thing: dragon-types are nothing to laugh at. They have only two weaknesses, and many attacks don't affect them much at all.

"Zeek, I think we should let Sparks take over from here," I called worriedly, but he looked back at me, a look on his face that reminded me of how aware he was.

"Master Wing, I believe I may have the better advantage over a dragon than Sparks," he said evenly.

I was surprised for a moment, before nodding. I trusted his judgement, after all, even though I really didn't get where he was coming from right then. "Attack at will, Zeek."

He bobbed his head, acknowledging the permission, and dodged a Flamethrower from the Salamence, sprinting in a circle around its massive red and blue body and nearly getting flattened by the tail when he passed a little too close. I couldn't help him at all in this fight, just watch helplessly and wince at the glancing blow the Salamence managed to get in with its tail.

A blue glow was gathering around his feet and head blade, and I realised he was speeding into an Aerial Ace attack: a flying-type move that was super fast. But the Absol didn't lash out, instead using the speed to dodge another attack and land tidily on the dragon's outstretched wing, sprinting across it to land on its back.

The Salamence roared in shock and immediately began to flap its wings instinctively, turning its head to regard its stowaway with surprise. Zeek leapt up onto its head, kicking his back legs out powerfully to get enough height, and opened his mouth, a bluish-white glow gathering, before a beam of cold blue-white energy shot out and struck the Salamence right between the eyes.

Zeek leaped off and landed next to me. The Salamence teetered for a second, icy crystals obscuring most of its head, before it crumpled.

"Nice," I commented. "I'd forgotten I'd taught you Ice Beam, sorry, Zeek."

The Absol smiled slightly up at me. "I refined the attack quite a lot after you left us, Master Wing, so it is quite a lot stronger than it used to be."

The man was frowning slightly, now, recalling his Salamence with obvious surprise. One hit and his dragon-type was out; never a good situation, as dragons tended to have pretty good endurance. He'd underestimated me; one of the worst things you could do when battling me, or any other Master for that matter. "Go, Purugly!" he ordered, and a fat, cat-like grey and white Pokémon came out, its aggravated meow warning me of a nasty temper.

"That has got to be one of the ugliest Pokémon I have ever seen," I decided, looking at the thing's stubby legs, chunky body, flat face and outsized ears. I'd never seen anything quite like it before: it certainly wasn't a Johto or Hoenn Pokémon. "Zeek, you take a break. Zanna, let's give this thing something to really wail about!"

The Absol nodded and sat down, panting a little from his exertions and keeping an eye on what was happening behind us: not much, from what I could tell. The grunts were just waiting, watching me pummel their apparent leader without any sort of worry. _He must have an ace up his sleeve yet,_ I thought grimly as Zanna flew forward to face the ugly cat-thing.

"Purugly, use Slam!"

The cat threw itself forward, and I didn't say anything, trusting Zanna to dart out of the way, which she did. As her enemy stumbled from its own momentum, Zanna smashed into its unprotected back with a Wing Attack before flitting high, out of reach.

"Purugly, Shockwave that bird outta the sky!" the man shouted, arm flinging up to point emphatically at the target Swellow.

I winced as the Purugly opened its mouth and began to charge it, knowing that Shockwave was almost unavoidable. "Zanna, take evasive action!" I called, sweeping my arm wide. "Go lateral, vertic and fast!" Instantly she began to dive and weave through the air, and as the Shockwave was fired, darted between the bolts, her wings lining up vertically for a second before she twisted out of the path of more shocks. Just as the electrical attack ended, Zanna pulled off a snapping twist in midair and avoided the last of the Shockwave. "Nice work up there!" I called, grinning. "Now Aerial Ace and Fly combined!"

Zanna pulled her wings in against her body and dropped like a stone, gathering speed. Only the very tips of her wings were being used to steer as she began to glow blue with the energy needed for Aerial Ace, and even as the Purugly dived out of the way on its Trainer's command she executed the tiniest shifts of direction and slammed into it powerfully, spreading her wings at the last second for maximum impact, and striking the cat with them on the downbeat as she flapped to gain height and get back in the air.

The cat shook its head dazedly, and I knew as its Trainer began to call out more commands that one more good attack would finish it off.

"Zanna, Brave Bird and Quick Attack!"

Instantly she began to drop again, pulling up at the last second to avoid the ground, and darted over the dirt, flying low and fast with the white outline of Quick Attack. She flashed out of my vision as her speed surpassed what I could see, and then suddenly, the Purugly was on the ground.

"Yes!" I grinned and held out my hand; Zanna rubbed her head against it as she flickered back into view and landed next to me. We both loved that combination, and Zanna was often fast enough to avoid any major damage on her part; Brave Bird was a very dangerous attack because the user had to fly low into close-quarters combat, which meant wings, claws and beak, and it took speed and coordination to do it without hurting yourself badly. Zanna was one of the best I'd known for that.

"Houndoom! Take her out!" the man shouted, getting quite aggravated now that he was down to half his Pokémon and mine were all on full strength; Zeek was just getting his wind back. But for this one…

My mouth twisted sardonically, one side of my face smiling more than the other. "What d'you think, Sparks?" I asked her softly, shifting my weight and checking on the five men and women still clustered behind me. They were still watching, but with a lot more interest than before: their eyes were riveted on the battlefield, paying firm attention to the girl who was giving the admin who was supposed to be giving orders a sound beating.

She pricked her ears straight up and glared at the dark/fire type that had just come out of its Pokéball snapping with ferocity to rival an angry Gyarados. She leaped from my shoulder, zigzagged onto the field and began to spark, showing off her aggression and charging power.

"Houndoom, use Fire Blast," the admin snapped, and I cocked one eyebrow. I'd spooked him, for him to be using such powerful attacks so soon. He was afraid.

"I believe you know what to do," I told my Sparkachu, and she darted to the side, immediately leaping into another pattern: such battling styles came naturally now. The five-pointed star of fire missed her by a mile, although I had to dash out of the way, and Zanna, safe about a hundred feet in the air, started laughing. Zeek was chuckling, too.

"Oh, pipe down," I told them. "At least I didn't get hit."

"If you did we'd be laughing even harder," said Zanna solemnly, as solemnly as a bird can be when she is almost falling out of the sky because she's laughing so hard.

As the Houndoom continued to let off streams of fire in Sparks' direction, slightly weaker after the powerful spurt of a Fire Blast, she was never quite where it was striking. Her nimble feet skipped all over the dirt, barely raising a puff of dust as her white-edged form darted all around, using a Quick Attack just in case the Houndoom pulled a speedy fire move that would be harder to evade.

But the black and grey hound was getting frustrated, and ignoring its master's commands, leaped after Sparks, its teeth closing on the air where her tail had been milliseconds previously. Instantly she whipped around and headbutted it, before using the other Pokémon as a springboard to get some distance before it struck back.  
It tried to snap its jaws shut on her tail again but missed and spun to face her head-on. Sparks glared back almost playfully, her tail waving slightly in the air both to keep her balance and as a taunting signal. The Houndoom had an unstable temper; it was hereditary. Houndoom were genetically programmed to be bad tempered, and it was rare to find one with a good nature. Sparks was using that fact to her advantage, I knew, as I watched the fight unfold. As if she needed another one.

Flamethrower; dodge.

Random spurt of fire that I couldn't class as a particular attack; another dodge.

Bite; dodge.

Flamethrower; dodge.

Fire Blast; dodged easily.

Crunch; dodged again.

Man, Sparks was not good for this thing's blood pressure. As she darted around its attacks and left it biting at air it was getting more and more furious.

One final dodge to the side, and the Houndoom let out a roar of pure hatred and charged her, lowering its head and moving faster than I'd seen it do so before. Sparks didn't budge, even as the horns came menacingly close to her torso, and waited until the very last second to leap up and do a backflip over the dark and fire-type.

For about half a second I was confused, until a weighty smack alerted me to the fact that Sparks had been standing in front of a large boulder, one that the Houndoom had not noticed in its rage and had run into, full pelt, effectively knocking itself out.

"Show-off," I told her mock-sternly as she darted over to me and climbed up my hair. "You didn't fire a single shot."

She grinned. "And now I have plenty of energy left to combat whatever else he pulls out."

I could only shake my head, smiling, as the admin recalled his fallen Houndoom, looking decidedly shaky. "Conservative? You?" I teased faintly, watching as he considered whatever options he had left, indecision flickering over his face as his hand flickered over his two remaining Pokéballs. "Since when do you conserve energy?"

Finally the man decided on his next Pokémon and threw the ball out, shouting, "Skuntank, let's roll!"

I coughed, barely holding down my breakfast as a revolting stench enclosed the battlefield. Sparks fell backwards off my shoulder and staggered around on the floor, hands covering her muzzle. Zanna was ok, being too high up to smell it, but Zeek was keening faintly and I felt the smell actually hurting his sensitive nose, so I coughed out, "Soluna, do you think you could block that smell?"

She didn't answer, but the air suddenly cleared and we all gasped for breath. Now that my eyes weren't watering, I focused on the purple and cream skunk-like Pokémon on the field that was maybe a foot shorter than Zeek. I'd never seen one of them before. It was heavily built and looked pretty clunky; probably low speed but better defence or special attack. I couldn't tell what would be effective against it, but I also knew close-quarters combat would be totally impossible. I couldn't ask Zeek to do this; the scent could permanently damage his sense of smell.

"Soluna, can you keep the smell blocked from us and fight at the same time?" I asked her. "If you can't, release it from everyone except Zeek or the smell will kill him."

The Espeon glanced at me and snorted. _"What do you take me for, anyway?"_ She trotted onto the field and sat down, tail waving rhythmically as she began to gather focus. The smell did not penetrate her shield, and I think we were all very grateful for it, Zeek especially.

"Skuntank, use Sludge Bomb!" the man we were fighting shouted, a hint of a smirk in place. I frowned slightly; evidently this thing was a poison-type, so why was he smiling? Poison is usually weak against psychic-types. Very weak.

Soluna blocked the spheres of acidic gunk with a psychic barrier, not even blinking. I was struck with suspicion. I didn't know what type this Skuntank thing was, and the man had probably guessed it from my expression. So why show me that it had a weakness to Soluna?

"Sol, use Psybeam, please," I ordered, and she looked back at me. _"Why not Psychic?"_

"I'm not sure," I responded, and Soluna obeyed, trusting in my judgement the way I trusted the judgement of all of my Pokémon, firing the multicoloured beam of light from the ruby on her forehead.

It didn't do a thing.

"_What the heck?" _Soluna asked, startled. The Skuntank yawned, looking around at its Trainer and blinking. I blinked, too, thinking aloud, "Why didn't that work?"

"It's part dark-type, Master Wing," said Zeek suddenly, glaring onto the field. "That creature, it's part dark type and part poison, that's why Soluna could not affect it with a Psybeam."

"Thanks, Zeek. I suspected as much." Soluna continued to block its various poison attacks without blinking, occasionally Teleporting out of harm's way while she waited for me to come up with a plan. I let my mind drift, ignoring the fact that my leg was beginning to twinge as Soluna's energy was sapped by her various barriers, trying to come up with a plan.

_Wait…_ "Soluna!" I shouted. "You remember Miracle Eye?"

"_What? That worthless move?"_ She sounded doubtful.

"Just do it!"

She must have complied, because the Skuntank began to glow in various shades of blue and red while its Trainer looked on in surprise and, I noted gleefully, anxiety. Then the lights winked out, leaving the poison/dark combo completely unharmed. "What was that?" he sneered. "Pretty lights show, but you'll need more than that to beat my Skuntank!"

I smiled nastily. "I've got more than that. Now, Soluna, use Psychic!"

The Espeon immediately obeyed, suddenly clueing in on what I was trying to do, and, flattening her ears to shape the blast, released a burst of powerful Psychic energy on the Skuntank.

And this time, it worked.

The skunk reeled back, looking at us in surprise, and its trainer was struck completely dumb. I smiled. "One more good one ought to do it, don't you think?"

Another wave of blue energy pulsed, and the Skuntank's eyes rolled back in its head as it collapsed.

So, I suppose you're wondering how a psychic-move worked against a dark-type, right? That's what Miracle Eye does: it's a psychic move that lets the user target weaknesses on their foe, making the protection of a part dark-type pretty much redundant. Because most dark-types are either pure or their second type is resistant to psychic, I've never used it before.

We were lucky I remembered that move at all, really.

"Thanks, Soluna," I said as she walked sedately back towards us. "None of the others would have been able to handle the smell. It was actually hurting Zeek, and I think anyone else would have passed out before they got within fifty feet." She smiled elegantly and sat down, turning her head to see the entire situation.

I myself glanced behind me. The five grunts weren't bothering to hide their shock: evidently this was the furthest anyone had ever gotten against their squad leader's team. I could see several pairs of crossed fingers, and abruptly wondered who they were rooting for.

Then I drew my attention back to the battlefield, as the man we had been battling and still were was bouncing a Pokéball in one hand. The ugly look on his face warned me that something nasty was about happen, so I braced myself and muttered, "Get ready. This, I believe, is his ace."

A massive, heart-stopping, blood-curdling roar punctuated that statement.

Many people would have fainted on the spot. One of the grunts behind me followed that option, hitting the ground with a thud. I didn't, although Sparks and Zeek covered their ears painfully at the roar. I merely said, "That's a big Ursaring."

Of course, my heart was pounding with shock, but I had no intentions of fainting, panicking or losing my head. I was calm, cool and collected. Well, mostly, and I would be once my heart rate was under control again.

"It's times like this I wish I had a fighting type," I sighed, remembering Chidori. "Zanna, let's see what damage we can cause." See, normal-types, especially big ones like Ursaring, have very good defence and very high stamina. You could pound on them with a sixty-kilogram hammer all day and most of them would barely blink. Fighting-types are the only ones who can get an edge on the big normal-types.

Zanna flew at the Ursaring's tiny eyes, almost hidden by its masses of brown fur, one of the few weak points. It batted at her, trying to drive the bird away, having about as much success at hitting her as Zanna was at penetrating the thick hair. Then, just as she managed to claw its eye and extract a roar of pain, it managed to catch her full-on with its heavy paw in a backhand on the return swing of one swipe, and Zanna wasn't quite fast enough to evade it.

I couldn't hold back a cry as its paw smashed into her small body and sent it flying at us; I moved to break her fall, and the Swellow crashed into my chest. Pain wracked my body as I gently cradled her, my muscles stiffening with the effort of not crying out again, but as far as I could tell, nothing was broken. Stress fractures were possible, though; all too possible. "Nice try, girl," I croaked, gritting my teeth against the pain in her ribs and wings. "Take a break, and Soluna'll take over from here."

She nodded, almost imperceptibly, before her body shifted into red light and it was just me, Sparks, Soluna and Zeek. And the mammoth of an Ursaring.

Now that I thought about it, the thing was far too big to be normal; it was at least twice the size of any Ursaring I'd ever seen, and I'd seen the all-too-big ones that lived on Mt Silver. This thing was in a whole other league.

My features hardened. No matter how big it was, nothing was invincible.

"Let's go, Sol. Don't let it hit you," I cautioned her softly. I was aware of Zanna's pain, but I wasn't going to let it stop me. This was the true challenge of my fights: fighting my Pokémon's pain to continue the battle. But they would always battle on for me, beyond what any other Pokémon would do. Because of our tie, I knew when they were hurt, and through that tie, they drew on my inner strength and determination. The determination that drove me to become a Master, and the strength that kept me there.

Soluna let out a sniff and stalked back onto the field, glaring at the bear-like creature with obvious disdain. But she didn't give me her sarcastic opinion, so I knew this was serious. Very, very serious.

"Attack at will, Soluna," I said quietly, knowing she would be able to see its weaknesses better than me from up so close. "Don't use up too much power in defence – this thing has a lot of power behind its paws."

She flicked her ears in acknowledgment and instead or erecting a barrier to block its Slash, darted out of the way.

But the Espeon wouldn't be able to keep that up for long, I knew. She was too reliant on her special attacks and defences; she was fast, yes, but her physical endurance wasn't exactly her best stat. And yet again, I could only watch helplessly as she blasted the Ursaring with various psychic attacks.

I hated not being able to help, but I knew I would only get in the way. My heart rate was double what it should have been, but I didn't care. My eyes were riveted on my Espeon friend who was risking her life, all because I had asked her to.

With every dodged strike and every shot of energy she fired off, I felt a jab of sickness in my stomach, anxiety and guilt combined into a pain that embodied everything my Pokémon risked. People tell you that Pokémon battling isn't dangerous, but when you do what we do, it is. You could be killed at any stroke, hit from behind or just that one attack you couldn't quite block out in time.

I knew my Trainer, my Master, worried about us on the field. But we could take care of ourselves, and her. She did so much for us, and we enjoyed the challenge just as much as Wing.

_Wait… what?_ I realised my mind was blending with Soluna's, something that occurred on the battlefield if I was concentrating particularly hard: the bond we shared solidified so powerfully I saw what my battler did. It didn't happen often.

But I could feel the drain in Soluna's energy much more sharply, and I realised that she was exhausting herself. The Ursaring was beginning to tire, but Sol would collapse long before the massive normal-type did.

Told you they had high stamina.

"Soluna, come back," I called, and she darted around a kick, glaring at me.

"_I'm fine!"_

"No, you're exhausted. Keep it up and you'll end up killing yourself," I said firmly. "Please come back and let Sparks finish it off. You've dealt enough damage that we can take it down."

She bristled at the insinuation she couldn't do it on her own, before her ears flattened and she told me, _"The bigger they are, the harder they fall,"_ and vanished into her Pokéball. _She must be really tired,_ I realised. _Completely wiped, even though it couldn't hit her._

As Sparks bounced onto the rocky plateau we were using as a battleground, I smiled. The Ursaring might be strong, and big, but it was very slow, and very heavy. Just like Soluna said…

"Let's go, Sparks. Get this going with a bang," I said firmly. "Go Thunder."

She didn't question the use of the extremely potent electric attack, knowing the Ursaring had already taken Zanna down in a single hit and worn Soluna down to the point of exhaustion. She had it charged in mere seconds and easily dodged all of the bear's attempts to knock her off her path, before releasing the power with a howl.

The Ursaring roared and we both grinned, our eyes narrowing simultaneously on the target. Sparks sprang forwards, dodging a badly-aimed Slash attack, and tackled the bear's leg. It was a fairly ineffective move on something so large, but it did shift its attention to look at its feet short-sightedly: Ursaring tend to have bad eyesight.

Sparks was already at its back and powering up energy for a Charge Beam. The man we had been fighting was shouting orders, but I'd stopped paying him any attention whatsoever a long time beforehand. "Aim for the legs and feet!" I ordered. _If that thing falls over, it'll knock itself out!_

The powerful beam of electrical energy shot forwards from her hands and slammed into the back of the bear's knee, its long fur conducting the charge to the rest of its body. The Ursaring howled with pain and staggered forwards. Sparks darted away from it in case it fell over; no way was she getting squashed!

I sensed from the vague tones I was still getting from the mostly-blocked enemy that one good head strike would probably finish it off. But no Pikachu, not even my Sparkachu, could ever jump that high…

_But flying is no problem. _I grinned and gestured sharply, shouting, "Sparks, let's finish this! Steel Wing right to the head!"

She grinned, too, and took a running leap from the ground. Her wings, usually concealed, snapped out to their full length on either side of her and pumped briskly, getting some height. For exactly three seconds the Sparkachu hovered as her wings stiffened and sharpened, before she dove.

There was the familiar sound of her metal feathers slamming against bone and refusing to bend or crack, instead carving deep wounds in the Ursaring's skull. Sparks flapped away again strongly, blood dripping from her steely feathers as she swooped back towards me.

For perhaps a second the enormous bear teetered, before collapsing.

The ground trembled under my feet and Zeek twitched a little. "That would have registered on a geological scale," he informed me. "Be glad no one was underneath it."

"I am, I am."

My opponent collapsed to his knees, staring at me in shock. "You… you beat… me," he whispered. "You beat me. You're just a kid."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Get out of here. Go tell your boss that Wing Benden kicked your butt to Kanto and back." My electric-type sparked her agreement, and Zeek growled, eyes bright with laughter.

He pointed one hand at me, arm rigid with anger and shock. "This isn't over," he hissed.

"Funny, I'm the one who won that fight," I said steadily, tightening my grip on my staff in case he came into hand-to-hand distance.

But he didn't. "This isn't over," he repeated, backing away. "No one beats Admin Meron and gets away with it!"

With that oh-so-elegant and oh-so-original parting comment, he and his grunts were gone.

I grinned and sighed in relief, looking down at my friends with affection. "Good fighting, both of you. And Soluna and Zanna," I added, looking at their Pokéballs and brushing them with my fingertips.

I looked up again, feeling my eyes starting to glaze over. The fight was over, the challenge overcome. Zanna's wings hurt and Soluna ached all over from exertion. "We'll get you two to a Pokémon Centre," I murmured, stepping forward.

My leg hurt more now, my limp more pronounced, but I didn't expect Soluna to be able to completely hold her barriers around the bone when she'd just drained herself. Zeek strode alongside me, watching my blank face, and Sparks trotted at my feet, staying perfectly even with me. They both knew how much battling took out of me nowadays. I tried to smile, but found it harder than usual, like my face muscles had forgotten how to produce the movement. "I'll be okay, guys. Sol and Zanna are in worse shape than me."

Zeek's eyelid twitched, but he didn't say anything as we approached the Lavaridge Gym. I stepped forwards, a little shakily, and rapped on the door with my staff before springing out of the way, suddenly remembering Flannery's various fire-types.

However, it was Flannery herself who burst out rather than a Flamethrower attack, and the peppery Gym Leader yanked me into a hug. "Wow, Wing, it has been _ages _since we last saw you, and then you just pop up when we're pretty much dead on our feet and _pow, _you took 'em all down!"

I tried to smile again and endured the hug. "Flannery, is your Centre still up and running? Soluna and Zanna took a bit of a beating fighting off that Ursaring, and it won't hurt the others to get checked up. We took 'em down alright, but we're all wiped." My brain agreed with that statement profusely, blacking my vision out for a second as I staggered, almost fainting.

"Shoot!" I heard Flannery gasp as she grabbed me.

"I'm okay," I muttered weakly. "Just tired. I'll be fine, I promise, now let go."

They, 'they' being Flannery and some of her Gym trainers, got us all to the Pokémon Centre and took in Sparks, Zeek, Soluna and Zanna to get looked at, and sat me down in the nearest sofa.

My eyes were half-closed but I was still perfectly aware. "Why were you attacked? Were those people from Team Rocket? How long were you fighting for? How many were there at the start? Were there any casualties?" I fired off questions as fast as my mouth could shape the words, not giving her any time to answer.

Flannery threw her hands up in despair. "Gimme a minute, would you?! We're pretty sure it was Team Rocket. We've been under siege for two days, and there were… twenty or so of them at the start. We drove 'em off; they were mostly too weak to stand up to us." The fiery gym leader grinned victoriously, bouncing on the sofa. "The ones we were fighting today were their best. No casualties on our side; our fire-types are too strong and too fast, although if you hadn't showed up when you did we would have been in some serious trouble." She paused for breath and I interrupted.

"How soon was it before you figured out you were in trouble?"

"Yesterday afternoon when one of my best Trainers was taken down. We managed to get him and his Pokémon back to the gym safely, but that was when we realised these guys were the best. We called Skyler that night, but they said they'd have a squad here by this afternoon at the latest." Flannery sighed, then perked up. "Won't they get a surprise when they realise they're not needed!"

I laughed softly, already imagining Rowan's reaction. I was quite sure he was heading this squad, and he would not be amused.

_Or he would think it was completely hilarious,_ I reconsidered, leaning back into the sofa and letting my eyes close fully. It was hard to predict Rowan's reactions sometimes…

I never remembered falling asleep.


	16. A Change Of Pace

Twin2: Hi, guys. Sorry this is late – first I had no inspiration as two of our pets died from snakebite. This was the major reason; I've been in lockdown for close to a month. Then, when I was starting to pick up a little, my laptop had a three-hour freak-out during school, so I couldn't do anything. THEN, when we got home, my evil cousin tripped the power and left me freaking because the power symbol for the laptop wasn't working. Then, when we finally got it all powered up again, I discovered that ctrl-alt-del wasn't working. Nor was force quit, or alt-f4. So it took me another hour to get it all working again. Be glad I backed up my files exactly four seconds before the laptop crashed in the first place.

Then a second cat was discovered playing with another snake. She was bitten twice, so, we were freaking out big time, owing to the fact we'd had two pets die just the previous week, and the vet said she was probably okay, but they kept her overnight, and the rest of the next day just to be safe. The cat mortally injured the snake, a fairly harmless keelback, before we caught it, mind you – revenge for her friends who died, I think.

Oh, and we're still in first person. Wouldn't be written any other way – I tried.

---

**Sixteen: A Change of Pace**

My eyes snapped open. No pauses, no floating into consciousness, no slow rising with the sun in my eyes. No, just my eyes snapping open as I jerked upright, only to fall off the sofa I'd been asleep on.

I blinked up at the cushion where my feet were still firmly wedged between it and the back of the sofa. Sparks, Zanna, Soluna and Zeek were curled up on the sofa near where I'd been, along with Trick and Ace, but as it was only the very bare edge of dawn, none of them had woken up. "Ow," I noted, disentangling myself and looking around for my staff and the rest of my gear. It was on the floor, underneath me (which explained the slight backache), and I grabbed it to use as a balance to stand up.

Then I realised what time it was – _dawn. Of the next day._ There were two Skylers asleep in this room, leaning against the wall. One was Rowan. They were both in uniform, which didn't happen often: brown pants, and the women were allowed to wear skirts (but they didn't, frequently) with a green shirt and brown jacket. Some wore bands of blue around their wrists, necks or heads. I recognised the other as a senior member: apparently Team Skyler had decided to treat this as quite the emergency.

But I hadn't planned on still being here.

I thanked every Legendary I knew, which was a lot, that they hadn't woken up yet as I picked up my backpack and checked everything was in it. If Rowan caught me awake, he wouldn't let me out of his sight.

"Return," I whispered, and immediately, all six of my travelling companions dissipated into red light, transferring to their Pokéballs and sleeping on. They probably wouldn't even notice we'd left until they woke up several hours later. Even Sparks, who usually chose to stay out of her Pokéball, went into the little-used orb at my belt in favour of a few hours' extra sleep.

I was heading for the glass doors of the Centre, my limp more pronounced in the face of yesterday's exertion, when something made me pause. There was a pen and pad sitting on the counter.

I swore mentally at myself and picked up the pen, scribbling in my distinct scrawl, ((Sorry about not leaving you any bad guys to pound, but it was sort of an emergency. Kinda like this one. Maybe I'll see you there?))

_Of course, I have no idea where the next emergency will be,_ I admitted to myself as I tugged the sticky sheet off the pad. _But chances are, the next emergency that comes up, I'll be smack dab in the middle of it all._ Carefully I stuck the yellow paper to Rowan's forearm, where he'd be sure to notice it in the morning (and swear loudly at me), before slipping silently out the doors.

I loped down the streets of Lavaridge, holding myself lower to the ground than usual as I dashed along. I stumbled a little going up the slope, but I gritted my teeth and pushed on, holding my breath until I was over the first ridge.

Safe from the view of the town, I felt stiff anxiety melting away, even as I began to negotiate the difficult paths again. _Sorry, Rowan,_ I thought back at the town. _I'm not ready to go back just yet._

Irritably I brushed long strands of straight black hair out of my face, wondering if it was annoying enough to cut right off. Yeah, yeah, so there are prissy girly-girls who would kill for hair this long, but I'm not one of them. Truth be told, it's annoying. Then and there I resolved to find a pair of scissors and cut my hair short. I'm a wandering Master. I don't want to be spending _any _time getting my hair under control, let alone the hour a metre and a half of hair required. Or _would_ require, should I actually care.

For now I just yanked most of it up, mats and knots and all, in a high ponytail, pausing on the trail to tie it up with my blue bandana. I then tied the loose bits that had already escaped back with the white and gold cloth, not caring about the strands getting caught up in the knot. That's why I need two of the things.

Of course, it wouldn't be long before the Skylers woke up and noticed my absence, as most of them are early birds, and I could only hope that they didn't bother to try to follow me. And if they did, that I hadn't left enough of a trail to track me by.

Even half-expecting to get ambushed, I jumped when the comset stashed in some hidden pocket buzzed loudly. I fished it out, hit the 'accept call' button and said, "Yes?" holding the earpiece a good foot away from my head.

This turned out to be a good idea, and as a burst of loud volume swearing filtered through, I rolled my eyes and moved the comset further from my ear, continuing to walk and keep an eye on the trail ahead. I stepped up the pace a little, eyes darting from side to side: for all I knew the call was a fake, a diversion.

Once the profanities died down I put the earpiece back in my ear, ignoring the mumbled curses, and said mildly, "Good morning to you, too, Rowan."

This sparked another short swearword but he'd worked off most of his vexation already and said a weary good morning in return. "_How _do you do it?"

"How do I do what?" I asked innocently, widening my eyes and batting my eyelashes at a nearby tree, temporarily forgetting that Rowan couldn't see me. If he could, he'd be laughing. Hard.

"How can you slip away so easily without us, without _someone _noticing? I was in the same room as you and I didn't hear you waking up or moving around. Hell, you put a sticky note on my arm and I didn't notice! Maybe some people wouldn't have, but Wing, I'm – I _notice _stuff like that. How can you be so good at sneaking around?" He sounded purely exhausted now.

I shrugged, smiling at the leaves overhead of the trail. "Long practice, my friend; long practice and sheer determination. What's the next emergency at Skyler? Another kidnap? A gym taken over? An infiltration mission? Investigations? Or are you stuck on patrol again?"

Rowan laughed at my eager barrage of questions, the sound wry but amused. "You'd make a good agent," he commented lightly, a faint teasing note in his voice. "So enthusiastic."

I smirked, glad he couldn't see me for a moment. "Nah, I don't take orders well. So what's your next mission?"

"Persistent, too. Ok. It's an IIR, double hit." IIR was Skyler slang for Infiltration Information Retrieval – translation, they were doing a raid. "Don't know precisely where yet, although one location is in Johto, according to Cedar. We're going after a couple of small labs belonging to Team Rocket – Cedar thinks they're up to something suspicious and I'm thinking she's right. People have started disappearing – the numbers are incredible, and one of Steven's sources says it's Rocket's fault. Huh?"

"What's up?" I asked, latching onto something in his tone.

"I just got sent an email. Hang on a sec." I could hear typing. Then, "Wing?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not going to like this."

"Whoopie. It'd be bad for me to get everything I wanted, anyway," I said light-heartedly, ignoring the fact that my pulse was going double speed. "Now what's going on to get you warning me about something?"

"I just got the mission specs. We're going after a place in Slateport City, and, well…"

"Spit it out!" I snapped, getting impatient.

"Ecruteak City."

I could just feel myself going pale. After a minute or two of stunned silence Rowan got worried. "Wing? Wing, I know it's a shock, but–"

"I'm fine," I interrupted, my voice strong. Ecruteak City. No big deal. "Do you have anything else?"

There was the sound of him gulping on the other end. "I just got a list of the missing people. It's… big. Bigger than we ever guessed. I'll send it to you if you'll switch your palmtop on."

I flipped it open and tapped the screen awake. A few seconds later I was opening the list, and Rowan was right. It was big. Three hundred people, of all professions, of all ages, from all across four continents, were missing. I flipped through the pages of IDs and meaningless names, only pausing when a faintly familiar image flicked over my screen. _So many…_

My face hardened and I didn't flip back through, although my stomach was tightening, giving a pained lurch at particularly recognizable faces. So many, from so many places. I probably knew half of these people by sight at least, and some I knew very well. All too well.

It took exactly four seconds for me to come to a decision. "Mind if I lend a hand in this investigation here and there?" I asked him, keeping my voice strong and unafraid. "I owe Team Rocket a kick up the rear this week." My hand tightened on my staff. I owed them several kicks, and if what I suspected had happened, I would rip them limb from limb. Every last one.

Rowan grunted. "I've got a hunch we'll need all the help we can get with this one."

I was enjoying the conversation, plotting what I was going to do, but I had a hunch of my own and it wasn't a good one. "Ro, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to cut this short. I may have a bit of a–" I broke off and ducked, avoiding a sharp punch and turning to face my opponent. "I'll call you back, my emergency just snuck up on me," I told him, and hung up.

Now I brought my staff to bear, swinging the lower end into my hand and blocking a snap-kick from the young man in front of me. He dropped away and backed off, not looking surprised I'd blocked him, and I eyed him warily. I'm five foot ten, tall for a girl, and he was bigger than me by a good half foot, and a lot broader in the shoulder.

I smiled. That meant this fight was almost fair.

Quick as a flash I whipped my staff around, slamming the black-clad man in the stomach with all the force I could muster.

Almost fair. But not quite.

He doubled over, face shocked now: he hadn't expected me to be so fast. I smiled innocently and snapped my staff into his chin, using my left hand as a fulcrum and my right hand for extra power in the blow. He staggered backwards, trying to get some distance between us, but I stuck my foot behind his heel and he toppled.

I shook my head in exasperation. No Pokémon that I could see or sense – they seemed to have figured out my strength in battling. So now they were trying for surprise and force. I detected that the familiar red R was embroidered on one shoulder, which was much less noticeable than the massive crimson letter emblazoned on the chests of the black Rocket uniforms. I made a note to tell Rowan about it and checked my opponent – out cold, of course.

I was considering going through his pockets for more clues at what was going on when a forearm closed over my throat and a hand forcefully gripped the base of my ponytail. I choked, more out of shock than fear or pain, tightened my grip on my staff, not wanting to drop my weapon, and kicked out with my good leg, grimacing painfully as all my weight rested on a cracked bone.

My head was yanked back viciously, dragged back by my hair, and the forearm blocking my windpipe was removed, only to be replaced by the cold pressure of a knife blade. I froze, feeling the blade starting to cut through the skin, but no way was I scared.

My voice was scathing. "Wow, and I was doing so well. Must be at least two months since someone held me at knifepoint." My mind was racing, contrary to my bored outlook. I could have easily twisted out of this with minimal damage, if not for the deathgrip on my hair. _Stupid ponytail._ Instead, I was immobilised.

The knife pressed more firmly against my neck. "Drop the stick, kid," growled a voice from above me, and in a flash of inspiration, I let it fall. I'd need two hands for this, anyway. The pressure let up a little as he said, relievedly, "Good, now don't make –"

_Any sudden movements?_ I thought gleefully as I bit into his thumb with a fingernail and twisted my head to the side, at the same time dragging my captor's wrist back, straining against my hair, which was creaking and snapping even as I jammed my thumbnail into his wrist and twisted to stop him slitting my throat. I dipped my head forwards and down, then let the knife, razor-sharp, slash forward through the base of my ponytail.

I was free. I let myself fall forwards onto my hands and knees and made sure I'd grabbed my staff from the floor, now pulling it upright. Using it as a balance and half-kneeling in the grass, I swept the man's feet out from under him with my leg before he could register what was happening and bounced up, pressing one end of my staff into his forehead.

"Dead," I said innocently, and spun the staff over my hand to crack the other end against his temple. _Probably_ not dead, but definitely unconscious.

This time I checked that there were no other unpleasant surprises hiding in the shrubbery before relaxing. I looked at the long ribbon of black hair and the loose blue scarf the second man had dropped and shook my head. _Unscheduled haircut,_ I thought with amusement.

The Pokéballs at my belt suddenly broke open, all six, and my Pokémon formed, shaking themselves. "What's going on?!" Sparks demanded, looking keenly at the collapsed bodies on the trail. "You got a burst of adrenaline and – crap, you're bleeding!"

I blinked and touched my throat, where the knife had cut a thin, shallow line of blood that was already healing over. A twitchy sting made me raise my hand, and I figured out that the blade had nicked my jaw, cheek and ear as I pulled it past my head – I had been a little busy to notice immediately.

Zeek was watching me with obvious confusion. "Milady, what on earth have you done to your hair?"

I tugged on a black bang that was swinging loose around my head, feeling the hacked-off ends, and said, "Zeek, don't call me that – huh?" My earpiece was humming, and probably had been for several minutes. I reached for the switch, frowning slightly, and as I flipped it I growled, "Rowan, I said I'd call you back!"

"Actually it's Steven," said an even voice on the other end, sounding faintly amused. "Are you alright, Master Wing?"

"I'm fine. Is Rowan there?" I asked suspiciously.

"Yes, and he's running around like a maniac. What did you do to him?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sending his phone my coordinates. Could you ask him to bring a team down here? I have a couple of people Cedar might like to interview."

"Oh. That's what you were doing."

I shook my head and asked, "How long before they get here? I don't want to have to knock these guys out again."

Steven chuckled. "They're already going, Master Wing. They'll be there in a few minutes, seconds if they took Arygro–"

"He managed to teach her coordinates, then?" I asked, interested. Rowan had been trying to teach his Kirlia to Teleport to particular coordinates, but he'd never told me if he'd managed it or not.

"I don't know, but I think they took Toria anyway, him and three more agents. They'll be there soon."

"Thanks, Steven. Wing, out."

I flipped the 'off' switch and removed the knife from the unconscious mans' hand, moving it far away. Watching them cautiously, I began to use my own penknife to even out my new haircut. It'd be easier if I had a mirror, but I went by feel and it was fine. I only cropped the longest bangs slightly, right at the front, realising I could use them to hide my face when I was in cities.

And I was going to have to go into a lot of cities now.

I summarised the encounter as I cut for my waiting not-so-patiently friends, and Zanna shook her head in a measure of awe and exasperation. "Nice to know you haven't lost your touch," she remarked, ruffling her feathers and beginning to preen one wing. "It'd be boring if we weren't kicking the collective rear of some egomaniac team."

Soluna smirked at that remark and turned to me, ordering, "Drop your hands. I'll cut your hair evenly for you." I obeyed hurriedly, handling the worn but sharp penknife I'd been using with care. The ruby in her forehead glowed with withheld energy for a few seconds, roiling and shaping itself inside the gem, until it cut out suddenly and fine black threads showered down into my eyes. Spitting out some wayward hair, I felt my head, and there was an inch or two of soft, slightly fluffy hair left, all evenly trimmed and lying fairly flat against my head. The Espeon had even left the sheltering chunks at the front, and I combed them forward quickly with my fingers, letting them fall over my eyes and peeking out between and through them.

"Cool," said Sparks, and I stood up again, shaking my head against the unfamiliar feeling of having hair hanging around my head and face again, and the lightness of not dragging a five-foot plait around. Getting used to my slightly altered balance, I went around to both unconscious men and tied their wrists, just as a precaution.

"Rowan and the others will be here soon," I explained. "Gloves, please." Soluna's psychic energy formed a thin film over my hands as I picked through the pair's pockets and belt pouches with a practiced hand. The gloves were something Sol had developed for me when I needed to handle stuff without leaving fingerprints everywhere – stops the smudging of evidence, useful when you get into the sort of trouble we do. We had used them a lot in the past. I came up with zero Pokéballs (which I'd already been expecting), a handful of coins, a flip-top mobile, two more knives, something that looked like an ID card and a handgun.

"Glad they didn't get a chance to use that," I remarked candidly as I used my staff to stand from my kneeling position, and Soluna released the energy formed around the 'gloves'. "Thanks, Sol."

A powerful, gusting wind blew over me and I glanced up between the branches, seeing a blue and red dragon silhouetted against the morning sky, and grinned. Evidently there was nowhere for her to land, as four people were hanging from ropes and clinging on for dear life as Toria flapped steadily, hovering and slowly dropping lower until they could let go and hit the ground in a half-fall.

They all landed easily, crouching to absorb the impact on the rocky trail, and straightened quickly, already looking around, and as three of them brushed themselves off and moved towards my attackers a boy with blue eyes and brown hair sent me an exasperated grin. "What on earth did you do this time? And what did you do to your hair?"

I smiled back, but didn't get a chance to answer. I could see the girl of his team hiding a smile as Rowan continued, "No, wait, let me guess. You got snuck up on by this guy," he poked the first man with one foot, "and knocked him out, before this one was stupid enough to hold you at knifepoint and you knocked him out as well. And you were bored, so you cut your hair."

"Accurate enough," I agreed, watching the two other men and one female sifting through the de-pocketed items, hands gloved.

Rowan looked over the bits and pieces without touching them, he not having gloves on. "Hm. That mobile looks like it could be useful." He knelt to check one's pulse, the one I'd had to smash with my staff, muttering at the same time, "Man, you must hit hard. He's gonna be out for at least a week, what think, Taer?" suddenly addressing the oldest of the four, a man in his late twenties.

"She's definitely got some strength in her," he agreed, glancing at me and then away.

"Did I fracture his skull? I hope not; he might get amnesia," I mused, stepping closer and bending over, letting my considerably shortened hair fall forward as I looked at my enemy's pale face. The knife was nearby, looking as dangerous as ever, a little blood still streaking the blade.

Rowan glanced up as I leant over, then looked back down at the black-clad man, where he was examining the red R embroidered on the sleeve. Then he looked back up at me, eyes narrowing. "Crap, Wing, you're cut!"

"That's the second time I've had someone tell me that today," I said composedly, not taking my eyes off our captives. Two of the Skylers were tightening the knots I'd made to hold the men's wrists and the other one, the man Rowan had called Taer, was checking the guy who'd had the knife.

Suddenly Rowan was standing up and flicking my hair out of the way, wincing at the cuts left by the razor of a blade. "Rock. Sit," he ordered, rummaging in his own belt-pouch. I ignored him and instead checked on the locations of all my Pokémon: Sparks and Zeek were patrolling up and down the trail in opposite directions, the two Eevee kits still travelling with me bounding after the Absol and looking unusually serious. Soluna was sitting serenely nearby, and Zanna was flying overhead, having taken off some time earlier to do an aerial sweep.

Rowan had found whatever he was looking for, but of course, I hadn't sat down. He glared fiercely and brandished his fist at me, half-playfully, and half out of irritation. "Park it, you," he ordered, "or I may have to do something you won't like."

I glared back at him defiantly before sitting down a nearby fallen tree trunk. It was no rock, but it would do the job. I heard Soluna stifling laughter, and only long practice kept my face from turning red. I had reason to: if anyone else had given me an order, they would have been facedown in the dirt already.

Like I said, I don't take orders well.

"Hold still," he said sternly, beginning to wipe at the cuts with a strong-smelling cloth, presumably coated in disinfectant. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

I didn't reply, just shut my eyes against the powerful sting in the antiseptic and gritted my teeth. He noticed the action and smoothly moved my hair out of the way again, swearing under his breath at the wounds as he cleaned them with short swipes of the cloth, more gently than before. From what I could tell, they were in a straight line, one short nick each on my ear and jaw and a longer slash down my cheek, forming a dotted line.

"This is nasty," he muttered, lightly dabbing at the cuts. "I think that middle one is bad, Wing – it looks almost deep enough to have cut straight through, but not quite deep enough for stitches. You got lucky there. What happened?"

"Snuck up on me," I muttered, not unclenching my teeth. "Had the knife on my weak side – wasn't strong enough to pull it far enough away. Other arm was pinned, twisted, no good. Got my throat a little, but nothing as bad as those three."

Rowan grunted understanding and I twitched in pain as the cuts stung nastily, reminding me how deep they were as my friend carefully cleaned away the last of the blood. "There we go," he murmured calmly, "they're not even bleeding anymore. Celebi's wings, that was quick."

I touched the side of my face gingerly and winced as I brushed the raw nerve endings, but he was right – no more blood. I heal fast, I know, but not _that _fast.

The other three Skylers came up and saluted Rowan, distracting me from that train of thought, the woman saying, "Sir, we have secured the captives."

"Good. Start loading them onto Toria and we'll get back to base." They saluted again and began to haul their victims to trees, evidently intending to winch them up to the waiting Salamence. Rowan watched them for a minute, before saying reluctantly, "Good luck, Wing. Try to stay out of trouble, hey?"

I paused, thinking, before blurting out, "Can I come?"

His astonished expression made me keep going. "This investigation looks like fun, and you can't tell me it's not useful to have a Master on your side when you're doing these things. What do you think, Soluna?"

She glanced at me and cocked one ear. "_It wouldn't be the same if we weren't bringing about the destruction of the evil ones. We should pay the Rockets back for the last time they thought it was smart to take over the world._" She began to lick her paw, then added, "_I say we should do it._"

I fought back a grin, then called, "Sparks? Zanna? Zeek? I know you're listening."

"Yeah! It's time we came out of retirement!" Sparks yelled. "These guys have no idea who they're messing with!"

"Master Wing, may I just say: What took you so long?" I rolled my eyes at the bird's sass and turned to Zeek.

The Absol looked serious, but that wasn't unusual. "Master Wing, we have a score to settle, and I believe it may be, as humans say, a whole new ball game over the top of that score. In the words of many before me: it is time." The two Eevee still following him nodded sternly.

I turned back to my oldest friend and told him, "There you have it: unanimous decision to go after the Rockets." I didn't smile this time. "And Zeek suspects what I suspect: Team Rocket is up to something, and that something is big. Whatever it is, I'm going to stop them."

My hand tightened around my palmtop, hidden in a pocket, holding so many familiar names, so many people the Rockets had captured. I could never abandon them, any of them, to the fate that might be waiting. I was going to find them.

_Hold on._

_Just hold on._

Rowan nodded briskly. No hesitation, and there was a slight gleam of relief in his eyes. "Okay. You're right, a Master is always handy to have, and we're going to be needing you anyway. Get ready to fly – it's a long way to the Skyler base in this region."

I nodded too, and said aloud, "Guys, it's time to go. Return." They immediately vanished into the darkness of their Pokéballs and I tied my staff to my backpack before jumping onto Zanna, the only one who hadn't dissipated. I nodded to Rowan once more, and then shot into the sky to hover near Toria until the Skylers managed to get up.

_Just hold on._

_We're coming._


	17. Never Ask

Twin2: And we have a new chapter! Yes, I know you hate cliffhangers. Tough luck, and it could have been worse. You should have seen the first draft of this chapter. The good news is, I love working from cliffies, so the next chapter should be up pretty fast!

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**Seventeen: Never Ask**

10th June, summer

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Something was wrong.

As soon as I thought it I knew I was just asking for trouble. Yes, something was wrong, I felt it in my blood; but just thinking it, let alone saying it aloud, was just begging for something very, very bad to happen. It was right up there with "It'll be fun", "Nothing to worry about" and "Come on, what could go wrong".

Rowan, astride Toria with the other Skylers and their captives, shouted to me as Zanna drew back to fall even, "Something's wrong."

I shot him a withering look. "Now you've done it." Zanna screeched her assent and pulled a backflip; I barely shifted, not even needing to change my grip on her sides or feathers. Riding a bird was a little different from, say, riding a Rapidash, about a thousand four hundred ninety eight metres of height, but the balance needed was the same. I'd had enough practice not to be surprised by sudden barrel rolls and twists – I had been riding Zanna for too many years for her to throw me easily.

I felt Zanna quiver underneath me, and I sensed her anxiety. From far off I felt the curiosity of wild Pokémon watching us from the mountainous forest below, and their usual bursts of nervousness.

Then suddenly all of the emotions, peaceful interest and vague anxiety, exploded into terror, and I jerked with surprise before gritting my teeth and walling them off. It was mass panic down there, but as I leaned over to see what was happening, ignoring Zanna's beating wing in the side of my vision, I saw nothing. Within seconds the mental shrieks of fear were dulled, suppressed, much quieter – I was getting good at cutting them off, I reflected bitterly. But what was the problem?

I straightened up, frowning slightly, and started to call over my shoulder, "There's something panic–" but I didn't get any further. A sudden rush, a powerful, unexpected influx of pain and sheer terror, had overwhelmed my carefully crafted defences, and unexpectedly I heard all of them loud and clear.

Fear – hatred – pain – it was all a jumbled – terror – anger – mass of feeling – fury – defiance – fright – running through my blood. Everything I could see and feel was blurred and greyed out, flickering faintly, while the Pokémon's emotions were coming through sharply in bursts of strong colour and sound, even though slightly twisted, warped beyond my comprehension through sheer quantity. I heard shrieks from kilometres off, further than my usual range, as if shouted straight into my ear, strange silhouettes from about eighty points of view at once.

Slowly, agonisingly, I managed to drag my focus and concentration back together, emerging from the spiderweb of confused emotion, straining with the mental effort, but refusing to give in. I hauled on my mental link, pulling back and away, slowly dragging myself free and separating all the foreign feeling, creating a wall around my consciousness that only my own Pokémon could penetrate. Sparks and Soluna were trying to ask what was up, but I blocked them as best I could, still pulling away from the quagmire. Once I was isolated, when all I could hear was from my own ears, all I felt was Zanna's feathers, not tree bark, rock and grass, all I could see the treetops and clouds we passed, I figured out what I'd seen, piecing together the fractured scraps of information.

Somewhere below us, hidden by the trees, there were humans.

Somewhere below us, hidden by the trees, there were humans with guns.

Somewhere below us, hidden by the trees, there were humans with large guns, the long rifles many Pokémon called thundersticks, and all feared, all were taught to fear from the day they were born.

But why were they down there, scaring the wild Pokémon? There was little trade in _dead _Pokémon, although, disgusting as it was, some people liked Pokémon pelt clothing and furniture, rugs and such. I shuddered. But usually, Pokémon were more valuable live, even the common ones. Plus, the guns hadn't been firing at all – the mere sight of them was enough to send Pokémon into hysterics sometimes.

I blinked, bringing everything back into focus, and said, "Zan, can you see anything unusual from up here? You've got better eyes than me."

She was already shaking her head. "Nup, zilch, Master Wing. I was checking while you were spacing, and there's nothing strange out there at all."

I frowned and leaned forward a little, urging Zanna for extra speed. "The guns weren't firing," I muttered quietly. "So they aren't after Pokémon, not the ones found in the mountain, anyway. They're not hunters. So what are they after? And why are they carrying guns?"

My answer came in the form of a cluster of gunshots, the cracking sound harsh and terrifying, all too familiar and laced with the stabbing fear of a hundred and seventy nine other Pokémon. I couldn't count the shots: they were too close together, fired too fast; and besides, I had more important things to worry about. Zanna was deploying some of her best dodges to avoid the upwards-aimed bullets, only evading them by millimetres.

I leaned forward and hooked my arms around her neck and chest, careful not to restrict her breathing, ducking my head to create less wind resistance, and she responded with a burst of speed, shooting through the sky and spinning to the sides.

Up, left, down, left, left, right, up, left. The movements were all performed swiftly and easily, a testament to the number of times this had happened.

Someone tells you Pokémon training is safe, they're lying. Big time.

I was one of five Masters in the world, right now. Three of the others were in hiding; the fourth worked for Team Rocket. I work for the good of humans and Pokémon alike.

I sensed Toria heading up, out of the bullets' range: she wasn't agile enough to dodge them. From her mind, the Skylers were close to panic, but Rowan was fine. He'd dealt with worse situations than this one before.

Suddenly I swore and clapped one hand over a Pokéball – Sparks's. She was trying to emerge, help us fight and otherwise see what the hell was going on. "Don't you dare," I hissed, hoping she would pick up the message. "You'll get killed out here, and your appearance might be the thing they're looking for to be sure it's _me _they're shooting! Stay put! Soluna, Zeek, that goes for you too!"

They all quieted, and I realised Sol had been yelling in my mind for information, but I hadn't picked it up. I was too intent on the current situation. "Soluna, can you send a message to Rowan?"

"_Yes," _she said simply.

"Tell him that we're fine, these guys couldn't hit the broad side of a barn, and we'll distract them until they can get away and meet up later. Got that?"

"_Yes, Wing."_ She relayed the message to my friend as we ducked and dove through the sky, and I could suddenly relate to a popcorn kernel being thrown around in a pan. _"He's moving on, fast. They'll be gone and out of range entirely in a few minutes."_

With a sigh of relief, I pulled my hand from the orbs on my belt, but as I went to clasp my wrists again, locking myself in place, Zanna pulled a surprise turn, jerking left in a move I hadn't been expecting. Unanchored, I went right as she went left. Then I went down. Very fast.

I looked down at the trees, powerful wind shoving my shortened hair away from my face, thinking, _Wow, it's been a while._

There were still gunshot cracks exploding below, and getting closer with every passing second, but I wasn't concerned until a burning pain shot into my chest, near the collarbone, and with the breath I had left, I swore. They had hit Zanna!

Damn, I'd forgotten how much bullets hurt. It'd been at least a year since the last time I or any of my Pokémon had been shot, around… hmm, around the last time I broke my Mew-damned leg, come to think of it. Zanna screeched overhead, and I felt her diving after me. I hit a wall of feathers and started rising again: Zanna had caught me.

_Guess the shot missed anything important, muscles and such,_ I thought blurrily. _But Mew dammit, this hurts!_

She was a little unsteady, but we'd both been through worse than this. Zanna twisted sideways, avoiding another volley, and I flinched in pain: no way could she keep this up for long. "Go to ground, Zan," I croaked, and she tilted her wings immediately, heading for a clearing in the trees.

She landed and stumbled; I slipped off, not quite able to hold on during the bumpy landing. "Return," I whispered, not moving, and she dissipated, morphing into red gas and slipping into the orb at my belt.

Not even Pokéballs could shield the pain, though, and I struggled to hands and knees, panting, and almost collapsed again. I yanked my staff free from my backpack and dug it into the ground, trying to stand up quickly, before something nasty came along, but I felt like I'd been sapped of all strength. I was just too exhausted.

All I could manage was to get one knee out of the dirt, so that I was half kneeling, before what was left of my strength gave out. I barely held my position, gasping painfully, and took stock of injuries. One in the collar/chest area, one in the wing, two more in the side. _How did she stay in the air?_ I wondered hazily, feeling muscles beginning to shake.

I tried to stand up again, but the burning pain in my left arm, right shoulder and vague side area overpowered my brain signals, leaving me kneeling on the floor with my hands gripping my staff so tightly I could hear my tendons creaking.

I was probably going into shock – stupid body reactions – but for now I had bigger things to worry about: I could hear footsteps. And I still couldn't stand up.

Sparks emerged from her Pokéball. I glared at her and was about to tell her off when what was left of my energy completely gave out and as my staff wobbled I collapsed, on my bad leg.

I felt the colour draining out of my face as I fought against the scream, quickly shifting my weight off it. I swore violently in my mind, feeling shock well and truly setting in and realising the last of my strength was totally gone, sapped away by Zanna's bullet wounds and my own blasted leg!

"You, shut up," Sparks ordered me, voice tense. "You know I can handle myself in a fight. You just sit there and recover some mental processes. I have a feeling I'm gonna need you later."

"How are you still standing?" I ground out. "I think I'm gonna black out…"

"No, don't do that! I need you! And I only get echoes of _your _pain, not Zanna's, so I'm actually pretty fit right now. You, on the other hand, are slated for serious agony." She bounced on her heels, glancing around, then looked back at me, concern etched on her face. "And from what I'm getting already, it's going to be a rough day."

"I have a distinct feeling you're right," I muttered, and coughed suddenly, a half-retching spasm that made me question the position of my left lung. "I hate guns. And bullets; bullets are painful." Ooh yeah, I was in shock. I coughed again, and Sparks turned back again, looking at me worriedly.

That half a second lapse in concentration was all they needed. I tried to cry out and choked on something suspiciously coppery, as a dark blur grabbed hold of Sparks.

I leaped forwards with strength I hadn't had four seconds ago and caught her around the middle with one arm. I was still sprawled facedown in the dirt, but now I had Sparks clinging to my arm as someone tried to drag her away by the scruff of the neck. The burst of strength that had got me here had disappeared, but I had locked my elbow and clasped my wrists, locking them in place as something solid for her to cling to.

I suppose you're wondering why I didn't just sit back and watch her barbeque the poor sod with a Thunderbolt, but there were two reasons for that. One: it was all instinct. I saw someone grabbing Sparks, I would make a grab for her and take a swipe at the someone. Two: the guy was wearing rubber gloves.

Some higher-up had finally grown a brain.

Someone grabbed a fistful of the back of my shirt and dragged me upright, nearly choking me on the collar. I pulled Sparks closer, clamping her between my chest and my arms, legs shaking. If the man behind me hadn't pulled me up and didn't still have a grip on my shirt, I'd be on the floor.

"Kid, let go of the Pokémon," said a harsh voice, directly in my ear. I shook my head soundlessly and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself. The grip on my shirt went, but before my legs could give out and send me sprawling again, whoever was behind me seized a tendon in my neck that would hurt like hell and mess with my nervous system if he squeezed, so that I was half-suspended by the tendon. I gritted my teeth.

Pain lanced through my neck, shoulder, chest and entire right side, layering over the pain already there, and I inhaled sharply, trying to control it. I fell to my knees but still refused to let go, digging my nails into my wrists and clenching my teeth.

A feeling of numbness crept into my right hand, but I tightened my grip, stubbornly holding on. A snigger from above made the muscles in my shoulder and neck tense with fury, possibly a mistake, as pain shot through them like lightning and I began to shake. I felt his thumbnail pierce my skin and realised abruptly that this one wasn't wearing gloves. My muscles slackened. "Hey, looks like she's giving up!" the man above me laughed, and stuck out his hand. "Shake on teamwork, man!"

The second one, the one with rubber gloves, laughed and reached out with his hand.

I twitched painfully at the shift in his weight, but as they clasped forearms, bypassing the glove, I saw my chance, and whispered to Sparks, "Thunderbolt, now."

She looked up at me in surprise, her own teeth gritted against the pain in my neck, and I hissed, "Just do it!" and braced myself all over again.

Lightning shot through me and I tensed, flinching against the pain roaring in my ears as the electricity coursed through my system and into the man holding me, down his arm and into the forearm of the other man.

Both of them screamed, lightning shooting through them, but I held in my own cry, tightening every muscle in my body against it and reminding myself that I was the conduit – if they broke contact, Sparks's lightning could only reach me or the man behind me – the gloves protected the second guy.

They still screamed, and I was remembering hundreds of other times, when Sparks was angry, or when she was upset, or when I got in the way, or the one other occasion I'd ordered her to do just this. Electricity seared in my blood, and just when I was about to chokingly tell her to cut the power, the two men collapsed and she stopped instantly, panting, her eyes tearing a little from the pain she was feeling from me.

I fell sideways, feeling aftershocks tingling in my blood and my vision blacking out almost instantly.

Sparks wriggled out of my now-relaxing iron grip and prodded my shoulder. "Come on," she growled. "I know it hurts, but we have to get moving. Get up."

I didn't respond, feeling myself sinking deeper, a burnt feeling creeping into my shoulder where the electricity had been transferred and my knees, where some had been directed straight into the ground. I was having trouble breathing – it was like the muscles in my lungs wouldn't work, and I stopped resisting the cramped muscles, forgoing breathing.

It felt as if I was falling straight through the ground, and my eyes flickered open for a bare second before closing again. I was still on the ground, but I felt as if I was falling. My heartbeat felt weak, unsteady, jerky. I would have said painful if I hadn't had electricity through my system eight seconds ago. Skipping beats. The irregular thumps weakened audibly and then cut out altogether for a second before jerking back into play. The beats faded again, little more than twitches of the muscle, before one powerful thud brought pain back into my system. That seemed to be the last beat my heart had in it, and as silence fell in my ears I felt myself falling through nothingness again.

Everything drained away, from the faint sounds to the numbed touch of rocks against my side, from the taste of blood to the singed smell and the flickering pain of what remained of my vision, leaving me in a deep void. I didn't hear anything, didn't see or feel anything. Even the worry, anger, and the deep sadness were seeping away, leaving nothing in their place.

Then a hammer slammed into my ribs as if a steel-capped boot had struck me directly in the chest and I recoiled, suddenly gasping for air as my muscles released. The impact must have crushed my ribs; I'd been kicked in the chest before and broke eight ribs. This time at least one rib felt suspiciously cracked, but more important was the loud, steady thudding in my ears. My heart had rebooted.

"Finally!" growled a familiar voice. "That was the third bolt, you know!"

"Sparks?" I whispered weakly, barely any breath left in my lungs for sound. My eyes opened of their own accord, revealing a blurred yellow face, outlined by the green of the trees. I took in a breath, marvelling at the minimum of pain I was experiencing, and fought not to pass out immediately.

Even though I'd just nearly died, I couldn't help wondering where the grunts' guns had gone.

"Sparks," I repeated, my voice a little stronger, "that was not a Thunderbolt."

The Sparkachu came into focus a little more, her image no longer swimming over my eyes, as she said, "I might have put a little extra juice in it out of nervousness. Sorry."

"S'ok," I said feebly as everything flickered unsteadily. "Guess it was the last Thunder my system thought it could handle." I made a choking noise that could have passed for a laugh if the pain hadn't caught the sound halfway out of my throat.

"The other guys are alive, just," said Sparks, tilting her head as she looked at me. "You got the main blast of it. Sorry."

"There was no other way," I whispered.

I slowly took control of my motor functions and tensed my hand slightly, feeling small burns aching with the movement. My arm muscles tightened painfully and I gritted my teeth, resolute, pulling my good leg underneath me and pushing upwards with the exhausted muscles, ignoring jolts of echoing agony. I was upright again.

I staggered slightly, trying not to put any weight on my bad leg, and my staff was swung up into my hand by Sparks before I could collapse entirely.

I started to walk, limping heavily, pain ricocheting through my body and things around me blurring. My chest ached from that last lifesaving bolt, my arms and knees seared with burning pain from the lightning, my neck hurt where the stupid sod had gone through the skin and the cut had been burned and cauterised by the electricity, my side, chest and arm hurt like fire from Zanna's bullet wounds…

All in all, I was in pretty bad shape.

Not as bad as it could have been, though.

You would have expected things to come back into focus, my senses to come back under control, but instead they slowly faded away as I walked in a shuffling, stumbling gait. Taste went first, the coppery sensation of blood lining my mouth growing fainter before vanishing entirely. Then smell. Touch disappeared next, so that although I could see I was clinging to my staff as though my life depended on it (which it probably did), I couldn't feel the wood under my tightly clenched hands. Pain still echoed through my blood, but I didn't feel my feet catching against the rough trail. My hearing faded out slowly, until there was only a faint whine in my ears instead of Sparks's nervous chatter from near my feet. Sluggishly, my vision greyed, weakening slowly, as the last of my strength drained out of me with every step.

I crumpled abruptly to the ground, more exhausted than I had ever been in my life. Pain was rocketing through me, but I only felt it faintly, on a subliminal scale. I could see Sparks shaking me, getting ready to shock me again, but I think I whispered that my system couldn't take another bolt. I don't know; I couldn't hear, didn't feel the sensation of being zapped. Whatever it was, she stopped.

The greys deepened into black and I knew no more.


	18. Hold On

Hello. I finally finished the redo chapters, after about eight edits on the last one. So if you care, go back and read them; if you don't, just read this chapter, 'cos I didn't change anything really important. Mostly just getting rid of Ash, clarifying, and putting in the time frames.

----

**Eighteen: Hold On**

10th June, summer

----

Soluna checked Wing's heartbeat for the eighteenth time. _"Holding steady,"_ she reported._ "What did you zap her with, anyway?"_

"It was only a Thunder!" said Sparks defensively.

Soluna rolled her eyes. _"Sure, like that isn't ten thousand volts."_

The second Wing had gone down, Soluna and Zeek had decided that now would be a good time to see what the #$ was going on. "It is a good thing Master Wing always taught us what to do if we got stuck without her," Zeek commented, glancing to the side to listen for trouble. Wing was out cold on the trail, face-up thanks to Soluna, with her backpack beside her.

"_Nice job with the defibrillation, by the way, Sparks,"_ said Soluna, checking Wing once more. _"Another half a minute and I think we could have lost her."_

The Sparkachu shuddered. "It took three bolts anyway," she replied.

"_Her body is building up a resistance to electricity, and about time, too,"_ the Espeon explained. _"Does she have any Burn Heals in her backpack?"_

The Sparkachu nodded and began to root through the front pocket. _"Get a Paralyse Heal while you're at it,"_ Soluna ordered, _"in case her lungs freeze up again. She won't last long if that happens."_ She and Sparks applied the blue burn-healing fluid to Wing's hands, knees and shoulder, the former wincing at the tear in her neck tendon. _"Crap, what did those idiots think they were doing?"_

Sparks shrugged. "Not like I know. I was kind of preoccupied to be considering motive."

For a few seconds there was quiet as Zeek walked a circle around the area and Soluna finished with the Burn Heals. Sparks kept one paw on Wing's neck, keeping track of her pulse, but it was strong and steady again. _"I don't sense her mindwaves,"_ the Espeon said abruptly. _"It's like she's holding them in."_

Sparks nodded rapidly. "I don't sense her pain anymore, either. I think something's wrong – must be getting bad. Hope she's okay in there."

"She's cut off everything she senses and feels," Zeek said quietly. "Cut herself off from the real world, and cut us off from her. She may not realise she's doing it; she's been doing it for so long it comes naturally now, whenever she's in pain or upset. Master Wing can't usually control it this well, however."

"I understood about forty percent of that."

Soluna sighed. _"Zeek picked up a lot of psychoanalysis and doctor lingo while we were with Cedar; this is pretty mild. He's referring to how she walls out the other Pokémon, the ones she fights or the innocents if there're too many. I think it's called dissociation, because she's bound to them and she's cutting them off, splitting them from her mental processes."_

"Twenty-five percent."

Zeek rolled his eyes. "She's hiding inside her mental barriers because the pain, if she were to let you feel it, would knock you out, and she thinks we need you awake."

"Ninety-eight percent. She can cut me off like that?"

"_Only in major emergencies,"_ Soluna replied, looking at the slashes on Wing's cheek, raised and red, the longest one of which had been pulled open slightly. _"And I believe this would count as a major emergency. You'd never think she only got these this morning," _the Espeon remarked, glancing at the darkening sky.

"_She's just healing,"_ Soluna concluded, sniffing. _"Really it's a surprise she held out so long. Did you know she had a cracked rib?"_

"What, from the bolts?"

"_No, it's older than that, staring to heal."_

"Oh, that one. See, we were in an Aqua base looking for a missing Trainer, and Wing got kicked in the side when she wasn't paying attention. It cut the skin a little and did more internal damage than she let on to Rowan, but she was still mobile." Sparks summarised the rest of that adventure for the other Pokémon. "Made a mess, but the rib didn't kill her, or even hurt bad, just a slight crack."

Soluna grunted, nosing Wing's hair gently. _"Find a blanket,"_ she ordered. _"She can't keep her body temperature right like this; she'll freeze. Zeek, can you keep an eye out for passing travellers, please?"_

The Absol nodded silently, but paused as he made to start patrolling again. "What should I do if there are people in the area? Chase them off or bring them here?"

Soluna let out a shuddering sigh. _"If they're enemies, chase 'em, hard. If you can't tell, ignore them. If they're good, fetch 'em here. Wing's strong, but…"_ She glanced at her Master, out cold on the ground with a blanket wrapped around her. _"She gets any worse, something goes wrong, she's going to need medical attention, and fast. As it is I think she's barely holding on."_

Soluna could have just Teleported straight to the nearest Pokémon Centre, but she had already decided, flatly, that that wouldn't be wise. The three of them were strong, perhaps, but with two Eevee and a shot Swellow on an unconscious Master's belt, it would be very difficult to explain the situation. The Pokéball would hold Zanna in stasis until they could get her help, and Soluna was holding the Eevee put. They would only get in the way out here.

"_Wait."_ Soluna's eyes widened as she figured something out. _"Damnit, why didn't I think of that before? Sparks, do you know where the Skyler base is?"_

The electric-type frowned, before shaking her head and cursing under her breath. "No. Wing's been avoiding all human contact since we got here. Two weeks ago was basically the first time she'd talked to another human since Ecruteak."

Soluna stared. _"Whoa. That long?"_

Sparks nodded grimly. "If it wasn't for our bond she'd have gone into total isolation."

The Espeon began to pace, an unusual gesture for her. _"Damn… if I knew where it was I'd Teleport us. The Skylers would know what had happened straight off."_ She sighed aggravatedly. _"Damnit…"_

Wing coughed, her head turning to the side, and Soluna turned back to her immediately, checking her pulse and breathing. The Master's breaths were starting to catch in her throat, and she was shivering. _"Get another blanket,"_ she ordered the mouse, and Sparks began to struggle with the backpack. _"Zeek, is there_ anyone_ coming? Wing's slipping." _Desperation began to show through in her mind-voice. Yes, Wing was exasperating, stubborn, and cold, but she was their friend.

And friends stick together.

----

She was floating… as if… antigravity? When… so long ago…

No… not so long… but long enough… remember? Mossdeep? The…

Launch… something went wrong with the launch…

So long…

Cold… can't… so cold… can't… remember…

Her eyes were… closed? They had to be… dark… so dark… so cold…

Flashes… not of light, energy, something… she remembered… so long ago… so cold…

The flashes, meant something… big… wrong… a touch… big… large… strong…

A map… familiar… no… this isn't it… something… something's wrong…

A flicker… near the coast… no… I won't…

Can't let it happen…

Glimmers… near the middle… no, a different map… something… what? What's this?

An image… big as… aircraft hanger… streaks of silver… cold…

No… never seen it before…

Been there… cold… so freakin' _cold…_

Something… ice… loops, rings, links, _chains…_

A full map… massive… so many… so cold… too many…

Flickers of sound, too faint, too many…

Was this… too cold…

Rockets…

Evil… no… not there… something different… green? Silver? Black? …something… flashing and fading…

Fading…

So far away…

Gone…

_Forever…_

Nothing is forever…

Were they… what… so cold…

Something was dragging her down and she instinctively resisted, refusing to sink beneath the surface, and slowly, all the lights, the flickering glimmers and the mental maps, dulled into darkness, shadows beginning to spread over her vision. _Fading…_

Then the maps exploded in a burst of light and energy, images flashing across her mind, too fast to process, just flashes of orange, black and cream, and she felt the ice tighten as the world came crashing down…

----

Her eyes snapped open, muscles fighting to sit up more quickly than was possible for her damaged system as she scanned the clearing, what she could see from the half-lying position. Sparks yelped and sprang at her gleefully. One hand came up to Wing's head, her eyes narrowing and jaw clenching slightly.

"Far," she choked out, "away… Back." She coughed violently, turning her head to the side. "Far…" Another coughing attack seized her and Wing wheezed for a second, before adding, "Danger," and bending over to cough again. Her back muscles were tight against the spasms, one arm clinging to the other in a gesture of anxiety – or pain.

"Wing?" Sparks asked, tugging on the Master's sleeve. "Wing, are you okay?"

The girl looked up, the coughs dying away abruptly, and she smiled. "Of course, Sparky. I'm fine." Then she grinned and hugged her, an action that made both Soluna and Sparks give her funny looks. Usually, she would have tolerated the hug attack, but not hug back.

Wing giggled, then coughed, and Soluna froze. _"What did you do, scramble her brain?"_ she yelped at Sparks, who was staring in complete and utter shock at her Master. Suffocating one minute and _laughing _the next?

Wing giggled again, not even putting up her hand to hide the happy smile on her face. "Hi, Sparks!" she said, in a very un-Wing-like way. "Anything happen while I was out? Where'd those whackos go, anyway? I wanna give them a piece of my mind."

"It wasn't that many volts," said Sparks, a look of terror making its way onto her face.

"Ow!" Wing yelped, rubbing her back. "Damn, I'd forgotten how much tree roots ache. Stupid tree," she added, glaring at the tree whose roots she had been lying on and taking a swipe at it.

"Don't panic, this is normal," said Zeek, padding up behind Soluna, and nearly giving the already-nervy cat a heart attack.

"_How is this normal?!" _she howled. _"Wing Benden is_ giggling_, for Celebi's sake!"_

Wing giggled again, and Zeek made a pained face. "The human brain – and the brains of most other creatures – function using tiny bursts of electricity to create impulses, thoughts, memories, instincts, reactions, everything. The electrical shock may have scrambled her neural patterns slightly, so that she isn't thinking, reacting or remembering anything properly, but calm down – in a few minutes she'll have them back under control."

"Ouch," said Wing, staring at her arm. "Ouch." She poked it. "Funny. Could've sworn there was a bullet hole there." She poked it again. "That's what it feels like, anyway."

"She's creeping me out," said Sparks uneasily.

The girl giggled again, sounding eight instead of eighteen, and stood up, acting surprised when she stood on her bad leg. "Owie. That one hurt." She frowned at said leg. "Wow, that one _really _hurts." She was still standing on it.

"Please tell me this isn't Wing," Sparks begged Zeek, wincing at the pain in her leg. "My Master isn't this crazy!"

"Don't worry; she'll be back to normal in a few minutes." Wing giggled again and hugged him, making Zeek give her a very creeped-out look. "I hope. I _really _hope."

"Hey, that tickles," she said in confusion, scratching at her ear for no reason. There was a few seconds of silence. Then: "Ow."

"_Zeek, get her off that leg before she really damages it,"_ Soluna sighed. _"There's only so much I can do, and it's hurting Sparks."_

"Sit, please," Zeek told her firmly, but Wing didn't seem to be listening.

"Ow," she said in obvious confusion, poking her leg, before sitting down and smiling. "Thankyou for letting me sit."

"_Okay, she's really scaring me now,"_ said the Espeon, blue eyes wide.

Suddenly Wing blinked, and there was a distinct change in that millisecond her eyes were shut: her posture stiffened, her arms shifting slightly to cover her stomach, and her brow deepened into a half-frown. "Effing hell, what was I doing?" she groaned, coughing and making a grab at her leg. "Wai', don't answer that. Lightning-crazy?"

Zeek nodded soundlessly.

"Sorry. That happens when I get a dose of volts _too high for normal functioning of the brain_," she said darkly, shooting a teasing glare at Sparks. The sentence was punctuated by more coughing, the sound harsh and violent.

"I said I was sorry, sheesh." Sparks hugged her Master's midsection, suddenly glad she was back to what counted as normal for Wing, and the teenager shook her head, putting one hand to her temple.

"Ow. Headache. No, I think this one counts as a migraine," she muttered, and for a second her eyes narrowed, before the Master stood up abruptly, testing her staff and balance. "Guys, please return. I'm going to head out."

She didn't wait for their response, already walking, and Soluna snapped, "You don't even know where we are!"

"No," Wing replied, a trace of coldness in her voice, "but I know where I have to go. Now _return._" They could have argued further, but the three gave in meekly and returned, even Sparks, leaving Wing entirely on her own.

Exactly what she wanted.

She was even blocking them out, so that she couldn't sense their curiosity, anxiety, mild annoyance, shielding her mind. Her eyes were focused not on the trail ahead of her for once, but on her left hand, and the streak of a scar running diagonally across it. If you knew where to look, she was a tapestry of scars. Not all of them were visible, and so far, no one knew they were there but Wing herself.

But the one on the back of her hand was important. 2nd November. She'd never forgotten, and never would. Never _could. _The scar, a rough tear caused by the canine of a Pokémon, had never healed neatly, and even now she felt pain running down its short length of four and a half inches, underneath.

It was easier to think of it like that.

She sighed, lightly brushing her Pokéballs with her fingertips. Zanna was hurt, badly, but the Pokéball could hold her body in total stasis until she could get help.

Four days. Less, in Zanna's case.

Four days before they had a near-casualty. Four days. That had to be a record.

Wing tilted her head back to look at the sky, somehow managing not to stumble and collapse while not watching where her feet were going. Clouds moved peacefully overhead, blown in a breeze the Master couldn't feel, showing flickers of blue and white between the trees.

She sighed. "Did I do the right thing?" she wondered aloud, almost wistfully. "Bringing them back into the fight? I mean, it's my fault, every time, when they get hurt, my fault if they die. If they didn't come, if I hadn't brought them back, then, would they be safer?" _Would they be happier?_

The Master sighed again, letting her head fall. _It's getting so that there are no right or wrong choices any more. All I can do… is the best I can, and hope it works out._

Her mouth twitched into a half-smile. _Just wing it._

_Like always._


	19. Ricochet

Twin1 (who is visiting): Okay, people, the world rocks in this chapter. Prepare to be astounded. No, maybe that's too strong a word. Prepare to be mildly surprised. And confused. Very, very confused. Giggle, sigh. My sister is so evil to you lot…

----

**Nineteen: Ricochet**

11th June, summer

----

Maps were useful objects. They showed places and paths from views that made things a lot clearer and easier to deal with. They could be confusing, but they were usually preferable to the alternative.

Sometimes you needed a map. Usually one would need a map if they were intending to cross the forests north of Mauville, and a very good one, as said forests were virtually unexplored. Wing usually only used a compass for direction, and for the last two years that had stayed safely tucked away in her bag. She hadn't wanted to know where she was going, had _wanted _to be lost where no one could find her, wanted to be alone. Just wanted to walk down the darker trails without anyone close.

It was probably best that Sparks shared such a close bond with her, Wing admitted, or she might have done something intensely stupid by now.

But, regarding the map thing, Wing hadn't used one in… years. Not since she first came to Hoenn. And she wasn't planning on starting again anytime soon. She had all the important stuff memorised and a compass would work fine; general direction was all you really needed. A good sense of direction would have helped, though; half the reason Wing hated mazes. Four or five wrong turns and she'd be completely lost. The other half of the reason… a personal matter.

Half the time she didn't even use the compass; as long as it wasn't dark, cloudy or midday, she could get vague bearings from the sun. Not so much from the stars; they changed in every region. Not quite as useful.

A raindrop hit her wrist and Wing glanced up at the clouded sky, which had, minutes ago, been sulky morning, she having walked all night, unable to sleep. _Now_ she would need the compass. And she'd get wet. Ignoring those two annoying new facts, Wing marched on as the heavens deigned to open up and dump buckets of water on her. _'The sky is crying.'_ Now who had said that one? Wing couldn't remember. But at the rate the sky was 'crying', it would literally cry a river. She was drenched already.

That time at the riverside…

"First time I cried in ages," Wing muttered absently. The memory Soluna had dredged up was cracked and smudged in places, but she remembered that much. Wing did not cry often. In fact, that last time when she was… sixteen, that was it, was the first time since she was twelve that she had cried. She actually couldn't remember much of that particular camp-place. Everything was blurred, almost as if she didn't want to remember it…

Wing sighed sharply and yanked her thoughts under control again, feeling icy droplets dancing on her head and shoulders, trickling uncomfortably down the back of her neck until her body heat warmed the water. Most Trainers would have been thoroughly annoyed by the change in weather, but, if you looked closely, the Master was smiling.

It had been a long time since it had rained like this, she reflected. Sure, there were heavy rains in the wet seasons, but thunder growled, followed by a flash of sheet lightning to the east a few seconds later, and Wing's smile widened. Rain, yes. Storms, not so much. A pity. She loved storms; it was said to run in the Benden blood, or so her father had told her once.

More thunder and another flash, closer together this time. The rain began to really pound down, rattling branches and stinging exposed skin, making Wing shiver a little, but not so much with cold. _It hasn't stormed like this for ages._ _I haven't seen rain – and lightning, _she added, seeing a bolt of it streak over the dark sky _– like this since…_

An explosion of sound and light roared over her senses, a clap of thunder snarling overhead, in perfect time with a massive flash of lightning.

Wing yelped and clapped her hand over her shoulder, spinning quickly and bringing up her staff in time to block a wicked-looking knife, gleaming in another flash of lightning, the man who wielded it hidden in shadow as he yanked in free. Wing swore mentally and dropped into a crouch as the air cracked loudly, avoiding a follow-up slash, before rolling to the side and springing to her feet. A last-second stumble saved her a nasty blow to the head as someone took a swipe at her, and the Master went down on her knees long enough to sweep the man's feet out from under him.

_I hate it when this happens,_ she thought snappishly, and buried her fist in someone's abdomen, causing the guy to double over, eyes wide with pain and shock.

Flash.

The glint of a knife. She tilted her head to the side, letting the thrown blade slice off a few hairs, and swung her staff sightlessly in the blindness of the light-spots over her retinas. There was a sensation of impact and a grunt of pain – she'd got him, then. Teach him to throw knives at her.

Flash.

Dark shapes surrounded her, enough to intimidate anyone else, but the Master just narrowed her eyes. _Bring it on._

She skipped back, closer to the trees, and took a step sideways. Water lashed down at her, silver in the flashes of lightning, slicking her hair down, but she ignored the icy chill slithering between her shoulder blades and ducked a high kick.

There was a squelching 'thunk' and Wing darted sideways.

Flash.

Someone went sliding past her, having tried to kick or jump or something and slipped in the mud, which was swiftly becoming thin soup. Five or six silhouettes showed up for a second in the flicker of light, and as the lightning faded into an unreal darkness – _it's day, it should be light, but it's so dark_ – Wing dropped on her heels and spun, letting her staff get in a few sharp ankle taps and knock more than one person over before she melted into the trees, shifting into hiding.

Flash.

There were more of them now, not even counting the bodies lying on the ground. Maybe there was cursing drowned out in a rumble of thunder, but Wing couldn't be sure. She scowled at the shadows from her position, knowing there was no way she could take them all on alone.

_What a pity, then, that I'm always alone._

Flash.

Wind gusted around her, making hair whip around her head and leaves and sticks break free from the shrubbery as nature fought it out, thunder roaring and wind howling. The Master didn't move, watching the section of trail she had abandoned with narrow eyes in the next few flashes of lightning, piecing together the movements she'd seen.

Flash.

The silhouette of the Master watching was gone.

Wing slipped through the trees silently, around the trail, eyes squinting through sudden darkness. _Who are these people? What do they want? They can't be after me; most of my enemies think I'm dead. And isn't it supposed to be morning?!_

Cracks sharp as gunshots sounded and she scowled. _They just never give up, do they?_

Flash.

The bodies were still there, crumpled in the mud as rainwater bounced off them. Wing frowned, eyes flickering and ears straining for footsteps against heavy rainfall, thundering growls and wind straining against foliage. She whipped around and jabbed forwards with her staff, getting a shadow that had been sneaking up on her in the gut and then leaping away, cursing soundlessly as her shoes sank into the mud.

_Now my socks are wet, too._

Flash.

More cracks, miniature explosions, and the Master slid sideways, slipping across the mud quickly but unsteadily, eyes flitting through the darkness, on the lookout for reinforcements. Her shoulder twinged painfully and she grabbed it again, cursing aloud in a roll of thunder that hid her voice.

_When I find the moron who got in that first shot…_

Rain blustered into her face, blowing hair out of the way and filling her mouth and nose with water and a leaf or two that she spat out in disgust.

Flash.

The wind howled around her, making Wing shake out her fingers, checking they were still there in the chilled numbness. She could almost feel the rainwater freezing solid on her skin…

But not quite.

Rain washed her hands, getting rid of the sticky feeling between her fingers.

Flash.

Rain, thunder, lightning, wind, all bound up into a spectacular storm that blotted out everything. It was dark now, impossibly dark, blacker than night.

Wing choked and cursed.

Flash.

A passing swipe had caught her in the side, leaving a thick gash and a rapidly growing line of blood, but she was distracted from it by a slash across her already-injured shoulder. _Dammit, they snuck up on me!_

_Pay attention, Wing, people are trying to kill you._

The Master dropped into a lopsided crouch, trying not to put pressure on her new injuries as she swung her staff.

Flash.

Before the lightning had even faded she bolted, leaping from the ground and slipping through a gap in the circle, going down on her knees to slide under what looked to be a club.

Wing used her staff to shove herself back up and began to stumble through the trees blindly, tripping over everything in her path and her own waterlogged feet, trying not to fall, until she stumbled over one stick too many and crumpled to her knees. Something cracked past her temple, scorching it, and her eyes widened.

Flash.

A bullet had just skimmed her head, barely missing; she could feel the tiny burn where it had passed. _This just got very dangerous._

_It was dangerous the minute you stepped into the Hall of Fame._

On instinct she twisted around, still on her knees, and brought up her staff, a flash lighting up the area and showing the knife embedded in her staff, the man overhead trying to force it through the tough wood, but not making any headway. Wing leaned back, trying to get some distance, and felt her tendons creaking painfully and cursed mentally; she couldn't hold this for much longer…

A soft voice whispered in her ear, "Wing, sweetheart, I think you're losing it."

Thunder exploded overhead, in sync with the violent burst of lightning, and Wing fell forwards from the sudden lack of pressure, barely catching herself in time. She moved one hand to clamp over her shoulder again, but as her fingers checked, it was clean and undamaged. No bullet hole. No gash. No blood. Not even the pain that was, admittedly, muted from her control.

She blinked and flexed her fingers: they were cramping from violent staff use, but they weren't bruised from punching and blocking.

_What… the… hell…_

A sinking feeling dragged at her heart and Wing thought, _Oh man. He's right. I really am losing it._

She stood up slowly, letting her hands drop as rain attacked her, but not as vigorously as before. No blood, no bodies, no bullets or knives. _Did I… just spend an hour fighting a memory?_

Wing swallowed, rubbing her shoulder absently. _I remember now… the ambush… I was shot in the shoulder… I'd forgotten it… how could I forget?_

"Sometimes, you want so badly not to remember a traumatising occurrence that your mind actually erases it," a voice said. Wing hissed in a breath, eyes narrowing. "Repression, I think it's called, a form of self-inflicted amnesia. Right now we're going complex post traumatic stress, I believe."

Wing spun around, spitting fiercely, "Where are you?!"

But there was no one there.

The Master was shaking violently, wiping at her forehead, where raindrops slithered down from her fringe. "He's right. He's not even here, he's not even _here_ and he's right, I'm losing my mind!" she groaned aloud, resting her head in her hands, heart pounding disconcertingly. "What's real and what isn't?" She ran a hand through her hair, shaking water out, only to have it replaced seconds later by the downpour. _I don't even know if I can trust myself anymore._

----

Rowan drummed his fingers against his arm impatiently, standing up abruptly and beginning to pace again, blue eyes focused on the black mobile sitting innocently on the little table. He knew it was unwise to expect Wing back so soon after one of her use-me-as-a-distraction plans – even if she was uninjured, she never checked in straight away. Once, she had told him the extra time was to check and double-check that she wasn't being tracked, tailed, followed or watched. Since no one with sense would want to tangle with Wing straight up, and the only ones to know she was even alive after Ecruteak were the smart ones or the well-connected ones, he'd never argued.

But even so, she _could _call them, much more easily than before, and the lack of such a call was getting the young agent very nervous.

Rowan sighed and carefully picked up the slip of black plastic, walking out the door of his rooms quickly. Pacing around would only wear the floor out, so he'd do something useful. He needed to talk to Cedar.

Her office was close, close enough that his mind had not had time to do a complete circle of thoughts yet, and as he knocked, the circle ground to a halt. "Come in," the professor snapped grouchily, and there was the sound of papers shuffling. Rowan walked in silently and she glared at him for a second, before gesturing at a chair. "Wing's fine," she snapped before he could even voice his question.

"Your face is too open when you're on home ground," was her next answer, again, before he could say anything. "Do you know what she'd do to you if she thought you were worried about her?"

Rowan shuddered. "I only ever told her I was worried _once, _and I never plan to do it again. But, one more question."

"Really. Spit it out, then."

"Why does she do all this crazy stuff, like distractions, and why on her own? When we need distractions for ops there's always at least a pair. Isn't there someone we could send with her?" Professor Cedar regarded him for several seconds before answering.

"She'd take offence at the mere offer, but there's also the problem no one could keep up with her. Don't interrupt. She stays low-radar around you, but when it comes down to the chase, to the _real _chase, she pulls out moves that only Masters learn, and no one can keep up with her, or her Pokémon."

Rowan's eyes narrowed. "There is. It's in your eyes; there is someone."

Professor Cedar sighed and rubbed her temples. "I don't know why you're so worried. But yes, there used to be someone." Rowan watched her silently when she paused, obviously waiting. He needed to know why his best friend was always on her own. She sighed again. "He was under very deep cover," she said softly. "No one ever knew who he was; no one ever saw his face. Not even me. Rill is the only one who knows. I don't know how he and Wing met; I never even saw them in the same room together. It just… got around that the two worked together. For a while everything was fine and normal; he did his missions, she dropped in when you least expected her, nothing went awry. But recently…"

"What?" he asked quietly.

"Three and a half years ago, something broke between them. She hates him, he hates her. But it's no good even trying to get them to work together; he was killed in Ecruteak two years ago."

Rowan hesitated. Ecruteak again. The cursed city, it seemed. "What was his name?"

"The only name the agent went by was Phoenix."

----

Wing gently tapped her fist against the front of her skull, feeling the slight contact, but it did nothing to calm her nerves. Any other Trainer would probably have let out their Pokémon, talked to them, explained the problem, listened to the encouragement about nightmares and such, but Wing was used to dealing with it on her own, dealing with _everything _on her own. To tell the truth, the idea didn't occur to her at all.

She limped slowly over to a tree and leaned against the bark, surprisingly dry against the onslaught of the storm, which seemed to have mostly passed. _All of that happened years ago. I forgot it… he said I repressed it, but that fight was hardly the biggest of my problems. _Wing rubbed her shoulder again, remembering the pain clearly now. _I never wondered where that particular scar came from – guess I've got so many they sort of blur after a while._

She rubbed both shoulders, abruptly starting to shiver. _This just gets better and better,_ she thought bitterly, blinking sharply. _I've known I couldn't trust myself, anyone, for a while but this is the first time I've ever actually cracked so badly…_

"Wing, I'm wounded. You don't trust me?"

The Master went stiff and almost clapped her hands over her ears, before gritting her teeth and clenching her fists instead. She needed to know if he was moving nearby. "Phoenix! Where are you?" she snarled, her head down, knowing he wouldn't be seen. "COME OUT!" she roared, spinning around. "Coward!"

No answer.

She spat bitterly on the ground, eyes hard. "I suppose none of this is even happening, is it? I just fought my own memory, I'm talking to someone who's not even here and for all I know my reality _never existed_!"

No answer.

Wing snorted. "I don't even know if you not answering is a good thing anymore," she spat, tilting her head back to glare at the slowly lightening greyness of the clouds.

"Wow. I'll take that as a compliment."

She started walking. There was nothing else she could do. What could you do to someone who wasn't even there?

Her head hurt. She put one hand up and her eyes widened as she paused on the trail, the burned skin stinging under her shaking fingers. She had barely dodged that bullet.

_Memories, fantasies, waking dreams, nothing is ever as it seems,_ she recited silently in her head, starting to walk again.

"Aha, but what happens when things are not as they seem and not as they _don't _seem?"

She ground her teeth, reminded herself that he was gone, and forced herself to start walking again.

What could you do to someone who wasn't even there?

What could you do to someone who didn't even exist anymore?

What could you do to someone who, for all you knew, had never existed in the first place?


	20. Lost

This is the fifth time I've rewritten this chapter. The third with this chapter-plot. Bugger, it was annoying, but I didn't like it the first times. I was writing it in Physics, and that subject kind of de-emotionalises my brain. Not good when you're trying to write this particular plot, but I got it in the end.

This chapter is dedicated to iluvromance909; keep reading and reviewing. I _did _laugh at your review, but not for the reasons you think!

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**Twenty: Lost**

Afternoon, 11th June, summer

----

"Wing, you're going to have to stop walking someday."

Wing ignored the voice ringing in her ears, disturbingly close, and continued to stumble down the waterlogged trail, sunlight streaming sulkily from behind the clouds. Soluna had taken one look at the day's mud and hidden in her Pokéball; looking at the expressions on the faces of the other Pokémon, Wing had put them back herself. So she was walking on her own this morning.

"And you're going to have to stop ignoring me too."

…Or she would be if not for Phoenix.

He had been haunting her steps since the violent flashback she'd had during the morning's storm, but no matter how hard she looked she couldn't find any sign of him. To make matters worse he'd been getting progressively chattier over the last three hours. In spite of this, Wing had been unable to pinpoint his voice even once.

"Come on, admit it, you _know _you're lost."

"The unaimed arrow never misses," Wing muttered mildly, wedging her staff against a tree root before risking her full weight on it in the mud.

There was a blissful pause from Phoenix's running commentary. "You mean you've been walking around in circles?! For the past _two years!?!_"

"Pretty much," said Wing, in the same calm, mild voice.

Phoenix sighed audibly. "Ah well. At least you're speaking to me."

Wing immediately clamped her mouth shut, biting the inside of her lips to emphasise 'closed and not about to open anytime soon'.

"Contrary brat."

The Master opened her mouth to yell at him, reconsidered, and shut it again without making a sound.

"Fine. Be like that." Another pause, in which Wing was stubbornly silent and Phoenix waited for her temper to snap. "Brat."

_Brat yourself,_ Wing thought, not bothered by the insult, and if she was, refusing to let him get a rise out of her. _But how long has he been tailing me? Why's he following me?_

"You live an interesting life, sweetheart. Hard to tell how long; I mean, nobody else even knows you're alive."

Wing started violently, eyes going wide. "What the f-"

"Language, Wing-girl. And I always did know exactly what you were thinking." Phoenix let out a light laugh as Wing swore at him with her fists clenched, knuckles white around the sturdy wood of her staff.

"Go away," she spat under her breath, once she'd regained control of her language.

"We both know that I can't do that, sweetheart, and even if I could, I wouldn't."

"For Celebi's sake, GO AWAY!!" Wing screamed, adding one or two profanities as she almost stumbled in the mud.

"_Ah, Wing?"_ Soluna asked, concern in her mind-voice. _"Are you okay out there? I'm sensing some… uh… let's call them 'hostile thoughts'. No. No, that's not right. I'll say homicidal."_

Wing's fingernails bit into her palms as she made an effort to shield the rushing turmoil of thoughts from her friends and at the same time reply calmly, "Just dealing with an old friend."

"_Can we come out and beat him up?!" _the electric mouse fairly screeched through the mental connection.

"No, Sparky, he's invisible," _or at least acting bloody well like it…_

There was a pause.

"_I think someone needs a nap."_

Wing snorted contemptuously, but quietly, and kept walking.

"No, never, Wing!" Phoenix chimed in mockingly. "The great Wing does not need sleep! She will keep walking until forcibly knocked unconscious, as proven yesterday, or she just passes out from sheer exhaustion, also proven yesterday! Her pride is simply astonishing! Only matched by her pig-headedness!"

"Oh SHUT UP!" Wing bellowed, clapping her hands over her ears, dropping her staff and collapsing because of it. On her knees in the damp grass, the world blurred and spun, and Wing felt all of the stubborn energy, the willpower that kept her going draining away. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled forward, fully unconscious.

Quietly, Phoenix chuckled. "Good girl."

----

_Gunshots roared from up ahead and Wing swore, ducking behind a boulder in case it was her they were aimed at. She crouched there for several seconds, one hand splayed on the ground for balance and the other resting lightly on her hip. The heart-stopping sounds faded away and the young Master stood up, keeping her back pressed to the rock._

"_This could get tight," a voice observed from somewhere near her left shoulder. Wing didn't jump, expecting the comment._

_Her voice was wry as she smiled and answered, "My favourite."_

_Peering around the boulder and looking for any 'problems' trying to sneak up on them, she just knew he was rolling his eyes at her, but his voice was even as he asked, "Ready?"_

_She grinned, teeth glittering in the starlight. "Let's set this mirror breaking."_

_In an instant she was moving, sprinting through the thick trees and dodging around random trip-ready shrubs easily. The heavy thunk of a rifle cocking caught her attention and Wing leaned back, falling into a skid that left her with a bruised left hip and more than one graze as she slid down an incline but no holes in her chest as a bullet shot overhead._

_Her feet hit the bottom of the slope and Wing bounced back upright, staggering a little as a bruised and grazed limb made her aware of the injuries. She made a face and slowed down for a second with a limp, then sped up as the firefight resumed behind her._

"_Must you mutilate yourself?" he complained from behind her. "And what are they shooting at, anyway? Each other?"_

_Wing gave an exaggerated sigh. "Phoenix, you should have realised by now that they're all idiots. And anyway, better them than me."_

"_Good point," he conceded lightly. Then, a sharp tone to his voice, "Go left."_

_The young Master immediately sprang left, cocking one eyebrow as a volley of bullets shot by, the sound reaching her ears a millisecond after the hot metal vanished into the forest. "Nice call, Phoenix."_

"_Nice move, Wing-girl. And anyway, it's my job to keep you alive. You getting shot in the head would make that rather difficult."_

_Wing laughed as the ground fell away under her feet._

_She flitted down the stone staircase easily, sneakers making no sound. A shadow, not hers, slid beside her silently, making her smile. Then a thought hit her, making her speak quietly over the far-off echoes of gunfire. "Hey Phoenix? How do you move so quietly when you're wearing those heavy Skyler boots for missions? I never hear your footsteps, ever."_

_He was grinning, she just knew it. "Simple. I never wear them. Clumsy, heavy and useless unless you're planning to shoot yourself in the foot."_

_Wing almost choked on her laughter but forced it back, coughing a bit, and spluttered, "Remind me of that later. I think I'll need the laugh."_

"_Noted."_

_They moved silently down the tunnel, water dripping from the ceiling to pool on the floor. The one saving grace here was that no footsteps echoed to freak out the paranoid. Not a soul was in sight; probably occupied by the stupid guards shooting each other upstairs._

"_How long before they figure out we're not up there?" Wing wondered aloud._

_Phoenix chuckled from somewhere to her right. A flicker of movement in the shadows pinpointed him as he answered, "If they all manage to kill themselves or each other, an hour or more."_

"_Good. Next problem: where the hell are we?"_

_Phoenix paled. "I was following you!"_

"_The hell?! You should know better than that by now! I was just…"_

"_Winging it?" Phoenix said innocently._

_Wing laughed. "Precisely."_

_Phoenix laughed too, shaking his head. "I was jerking your chain anyway. Turn right here; I know exactly where we are."_

_She turned right with a grin. "I'm so glad you're a compass."_

_He shrugged. "It's only fair. You attract trouble like a magnet and I guide us out of it like a compass. Left here. Your other left, Wing!"_

"_Uh… right."_

"_No, left!" With a sigh, Phoenix led the way this time. "Honestly, you have no sense of direction – GET DOWN!" he roared, as something exploded overhead. Wing yelped as he put up one arm to shield her and pinned her against the wall, ducking his head and squeezing his eyes shut against the rock dust that flew everywhere as the stone overhead crumbled and collapsed, shaking the struts of the tunnels dangerously._

_Pebbles trickled from the ceiling for several seconds before Phoenix let Wing stand up, brushing dust aggravatedly from her shoulders. "Are you okay?"_

"_You know damn well I'm fine," she muttered, glancing at the starlit hole in the ceiling. "So, verdict? Booby trap, coincidence, or spur-of-the-moment attack?" Her voice was low in the quietness following the rockfall._

_He shrugged and looked over the walls, eyes checking for any cracks or weaknesses the fall could have caused fatal damage to, but nothing grabbed his attention as especially dangerous. "Can't be certain. Watch your step and stick to the walls."_

_Wing stepped on a piece of fallen ceiling and jumped to the next without the slightest hint of anxiety over tripping, falling, or otherwise causing herself injury. A glance back revealed Phoenix rolling his eyes, amused and exasperated, and she grinned. "Don't get left behind," she whispered, mockingly, and suddenly started to run, feet flying across the stone ground as Phoenix swore quietly in annoyance._

_But even her head start meant little; his molten gold eyes were just visible under his cloak, right behind her in the instant she spared to glance back over her shoulder._

_He smiled. "Wing, you know you can't leave me behind."_

_She looked to the front and took a left turn. "Maybe, but I'll always try."_

_Phoenix made a wounded noise. "Wing, you speak as if you do not love me!" he wailed dramatically._

_The Master cringed, made a face and shuddered, shielding her head with her arms. "I swear to Arceus, if you _ever_ say that again I will have to kill you. You know damn well why I put up with you and it sure as hell isn't your melodrama! I swear I'll kill you if you say it again!"_

"_You can try." Gold eyes flashed. "But then, how would you get out of here? Left turn and… this door here."_

_A few good kicks and said door was on the floor. "Couldn't you use a doorknob, just once?"_

"_That'd be boring," Wing said with a shrug. "Now what?"_

"_What we came here for," Pheonix reminded her, and Wing nodded, frowning slightly as she began to pace the office they'd just broken into, avoiding the three sets of tripwire as she thought aloud._

"_Hmm… If I were blueprints, where would I hide?"_

"_Or, to be more specific, if you were a paranoid executive with nothing more on his mind than impressing the boss, where would you hide the really really important blueprints that could get you killed if you lose them?" amended Phoenix._

"_Yeah, that's what I meant. Wall safe." She spoke with no change in tone between the two phrases, as if she was just commenting on the weather._

"_Actually, I was thinking floor safe. This rug looks about right for it, and let's face it, a wall safe is too obvious."_

_Wing considered this for a second. "Floor safe it is." She yanked up the rug and looked at the block of metal, complete with combination dial, hidden underneath it with a scowl._

_At this point, Phoenix took over, he being the light fingers of the pair, and in under a minute the safe fell open under his delicate fingers. It was Wing, however, who checked the roll of paper inside it for any traps before plucking it out and unrolling it for cursory inspection. "This is it," Phoenix said quietly, flipping the heavy metal door closed again and spinning the dial carelessly, covering it over again with the rug. Wing carefully tucked the plans into her backpack, smaller than her usual travel one, and asked, "Why does Rill want these plans, anyway?"_

_Phoenix shrugged. "That's his problem, isn't it? Coast is clear, by the way; take a left. Your OTHER left! If we survive this we really need to review left and right."_

_Wing left the office in the same condition as she found it – minus the door kicked off its hinges – and complied with the directions she was being given, musing at the same time, "I guess we can only hope it's not world domination or something to that effect."_

_Her comrade chuckled. "Yeah, but then he'd have us on his tail, and Mew knows that's not something anyone wants."_

_Wing laughed quietly. "No kidding. We make a great team."_

_They slid soundlessly past the hole in the ceiling, rubble piled on the floor, and Wing couldn't hear the gunshots anymore. When Phoenix muttered, "I don't know if that's good or bad," she merely nodded her assent and picked up the pace._

_In a few bare minutes she and her partner were sprinting through the trees, past numerous knocked out guards – either from gunshot wounds caused by their own team, or punches and kicks from the pair now escaping from the compound. Wing glanced at her watch and smirked. "Just in time," she remarked candidly, making Phoenix glare at her._

"_What did you do?!"_

_KA-BOOOOOM!!!!!!_

_A massive explosion knocked Wing clear off her feet, but she was laughing as she stood up again. "Ha! Perfect!"_

"_Perfect?!" Phoenix spat, shaking his head. "When the hell did you have the time to – never mind that, how much did you use?!"_

"_Only three times the norm," she replied cheerfully, starting to trot again._

"_Feeling conservative today?" Phoenix commented dryly._

"_Quite. I thought I was very restrained, thankyou."_

"_Well done," said Phoenix sarcastically, shaking his ringing head._

_Their banter, commonplace to them, was cut short as an agent they both knew well exploded from the undergrowth, bellowing, "WHAT THE HELL WHERE YOU THINKING?!" at Wing. "YOU CAN'T JUST BOLT OFF AND DO THIS SORT OF STUFF ON YOUR OWN! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED! THAT EXPLOSION WOULD HAVE WIPED YOU OFF THE FACE OF THE PLANET! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!"_

_Wing handed the blueprints she had gone to get straight into Rowan's hands, shutting him up for a moment. Phoenix had melted into the shadows already, leaving no trace he'd ever even been there._

_But Wing knew he was laughing._

_Rowan got over his dumbstruck state long enough to say, "Wing, you can't just run off and do this on your own."_

_Yep, Phoenix was definitely laughing at her._

---

Still completely out cold, Wing half-smiled. Phoenix smiled fully from his vantage point. "Wow. I haven't seen that smile in years," he mused. "Sweet dreams, huh Wing?"

"Wha?" Wing mumbled, jerking half-upright. "Unh… wha? Where the hell am I? Wha happened? Pillow… I want my pillow."

"Morning Amnesia," Phoenix chimed in cheerfully. "Nature's way of keeping you from waking up screaming."

"Huh? Phoenix… wha? Does Rill need us to do something again?"

Phoenix's eyes widened. "Whoa. You're _really _out of it."

There was a long pause in which both of them were silent, Wing still barely conscious and Phoenix waiting for her to finish the transition. Then Wing blinked, hard, and let out a gasping yelp, collapsing onto her side from sheer shock and then rolling onto her back to stare, open-mouthed, at the trees overhead.

"You better not think that gets you off the hook," she growled, sitting upright. Her thoughts were blurred, but getting clearer as she started to wake up.

_I… I remember that one now…_

_How did I forget…_

_It was… a good memory…_

_Why did I forget it?_

…_Is there anything I _do_ remember before Ecruteak?_

Wing scowled and shook herself, but she felt herself getting drowsy again, impossibly so. As she slumped back into unconsciousness, she realised that she was missing the dead hollowness in her stomach that was usually there when she started to fall asleep. And it was a good missing.

…_I hate you._


	21. We Are

Episode Twenty-One

A/N: I'm sorry that took so long, but I had a whole truckload of assessment all due on the SAME DAMN WEEK, and then it was exams, exams, exams. I hate school. But none of this would have bothered me if not for the fact that this chapter was not so damn delicate. I took, like, an _hour _to decide on the exact wording for every sentence, then another half-hour editing _every single paragraph_. Then there's the fact that I've been working on my pet project a lot recently, which really didn't help.

**By the way, pre-emptive warning: I'm going to be changing the summary soon, having figured out one that I actually like. Just a warning to be on the lookout.**

Hm. I didn't mean to finish the chapter so soon. That was just the appropriate spot to cut off, I suppose. Next chap will be up much sooner owing to the fact half of my exams are already over and that the school holidays are coming up in a few weeks. So with any luck it won't take half as long this time.

Also on the plus side, the next chapter is here and now.

--

**Episode Twenty-One: We Are**

Wing woke up slowly, her mind gradually floating back into the conscious world and re-establishing contact with her senses without the usual flare of panic-fuelled adrenaline. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to glimmer to life above the canopy, staining wisps of cloud with pink light and fading out the silver sparkles of the starlight, and for several seconds she stared up at the dawning sky, barely aware she had opened her eyes.

"Yo!" Sparks bellowed, jumping on Wing's side – one of several reasons the Master never slept on her back. It usually resulted in pain when she woke up, or just before. "You have been completely unconscious for the last twelve hours, man! I thought you were in a damn coma or something! It's the longest you've slept in ages!"

Wing blinked at her sleepily. "Wha?"

Sparks palmed her face in one hand. "I'd forgotten. Your brain wakes up four and a half minutes after your body starts moving." She bounced off the Master's hip to sit on a nearby tree root, propping her chin on one hand.

"_Survival reflex,"_ Soluna supplied, lifting her head from where it had been resting on her paws_. "I'd expect she developed it in those last couple of years – you told me her sleep patterns were out? Every time she woke up, even a little, her body started walking again, and by the time she woke up she was on the run again. Made her that much harder to track down."_

"Doesn't seem to be going anywhere yet," Zeek observed.

Thirty seconds later, the Master blinked twice in quick succession and then jerked upright. "What the hell are you three doing out of your Pokéballs?" she demanded, shaking her head violently to get the world back into focus. "What time is it and where the frig are we? Ow…" She paused to rub her temples, scowling into the headache as Soluna answered her.

"_We're in the forests somewhere east of Verdanturf, and I'd say it's about five in the morning."_

Wing nodded her acceptance of the information before she grabbed hold of a low tree branch and hauled herself upright. "Ok. I'm awake now. Why are you guys out of your balls?" She stretched quickly, arching her back and scowling momentarily as one or two vertebrae cracked into place, before glancing around, muttering, "Where's my bag…"

Sparks and Soluna exchanged eyerolls. The mouse bounced on her root, throwing mock punches and sparking energetically. "Man, that storm yesterday's gotten me all riled up!" she crowed, inexplicably happy with this new development. "Yeeha! I cannot _wait _for the next battle! C'mon, Wing, let's rock and roll!"

Wing shook her head, amused. "With any luck we won't need to fight, but if we run into any problems, you can go full out. I…" She looked around slowly, her smirk widening as she continued, "I know where we are now. We're close to Mauville City – closer than I would have expected. They have a centre there, a good one. They'll be able to do something for Zanna." The smirk relaxed into a faint smile as Wing tested her staff against the ground, adding mildly, "Walk if you want, but we need to get moving. I was out for too long."

"Hey, the normal sleeping time for a human is _not _'too long'!" Sparks yelped, bouncing along the ground as her Master started walking. "It's how long you oughta be sleeping! Yeesh, don't you know that if you don't get enough sleep you go crazy and die?!"

Wing didn't look down at her as she replied calmly, "I'm well aware of it, Sass."

The Sparkachu frowned slightly and opened her mouth to question her further, but her expression morphed abruptly into a look of shock and she howled, "What did you just call me?!"

The Master glanced down now, a spark of mischief in her eye. "Didn't you hear me? Sass, for all the cheek you like to give me!" she said teasingly. "It suited you when I was ten and it suits you now!"

The yellow mouse took a spring at her, shrieking indignantly, but Soluna and Zeek both laughed as Wing dodged her and winked, sticking out her tongue just a little and ducking another pounce. On the third leap she grabbed Sparks out of the air and hugged her tightly to her chest, ignoring the howls of outrage and tingling static that was making her short hair stand on end.

"Don't ever change," she whispered, and the mouse stilled, confused, looking up at her anxiously. But the Master just winked again and tossed her lightly into the air, making Sparks squeak and snap her wings open, flapping them to stay aloft.

Wing half-smiled at the Pokémon still sitting on the ground. "We better get moving," she commented. "It's still a long way to Mauville from here."

Zeek and Soluna exchanged a long glance before bowing their heads. "As you wish, milady," said the Absol mildly, and they both disappeared.

Three seconds later Wing cursed. "Don't call me that!" she howled, but she was laughing at the same time. "Oh, I give up – for now," she added, glaring melodramatically at the two innocently glinting Pokéballs.

Sparks giggled and flapped her wings, hovering beside Wing's head as the Master set off yet again, her pace never changing, just continuing on. She could walk for hours like this, her mind almost blank, or revolving around a single thought.

The unaimed arrow never misses.

Wing had said that to Phoenix just yesterday. No destination meant you were never lost, no designated time of arrival meant you were never late. No goal… no disappointment.

A scream of terror rang through the forest, several voices in one, and Wing shot into a full run.

Destination: locked.

The Master's eyes half-closed as she concentrated, letting her range spread a little, gently sensing the area as she sprinted with Sparks beside her ear. There was a mild disturbance that way… no… too far north for the screams… there! A circle of confusion, with a small ball of terror right in the centre.

She cut her senses off before they could go too deep and let her eyes refocus – they always blurred out when she did a scan – before altering her course slightly, right for the centre of the terror-shift. "What's going on?" Sparks asked anxiously, dropping a half-metre to avoid a branch.

Wing shook her head slightly, eyes narrowed. "Not sure, but we'll know soon enough."

Just as fast as she'd started, the Master stopped running, pulling to a halt behind a screen of shrubbery and closing her eyes again. It's shifted… there… no, not quite, that's not it… there we go… but need to watch for that… this is starting to look more and more like…

She shifted sideways, moving to the left around the shrub, peering cautiously – _cautiously?_ Sparks thought,_ Weird_ – into the clearing just beyond. There were signs of a rather violent Pokémon fight, burns scorching the grass and small craters marking the area, but no people; the Pokémon were already gone as well.

Wing let her eyes flutter shut, tracking where she needed to go and balancing on her staff for a moment as she half-paused before shifting again, concentrating on her surroundings. It was quiet – too quiet for the busy forests of the Mauville area – and she sensed just the two disturbances, although the first, milder one was fading. Possibly an argument.

Wing stopped moving and opened her eyes. She had a perfect view from where she was standing and made use of her position to eye the situation critically. A boy and a girl, maybe eleven years old, were huddled beside a fallen log, looking unmistakeably terrified; an Electrike and a Pichu were pressed against the girl's leg and a trembling Poochyena was being hugged to the boy's chest.

"A-are they g-g-gone?" the girl whispered to her friend, shaking like a leaf and cupping her arm around the two electric types.

The boy gulped nervously. "I don't know," he whispered back.

Wing, watching this suspiciously, went still as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as someone breathed softly over them. He was far closer than she would have liked: she could faintly feel his body heat on her back, and as he spoke she felt his breath stir on the back of her neck.

"Wonder what happened here?" he murmured, sounding amused. "I suppose I'll have to guess. Those two were ambushed by… hmm. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say Rockets. They were injured, but not badly, and managed to escape and hide. Now the Team Rocket operatives are scouring the forest while these guys look for a way out."

Wing relaxed subconsciously, hearing him guess that it had nothing to do with a trap. A 'guess' might sound insubstantial, but Phoenix's guesses had a habit of always being right.

"I suppose that's what the second disturbance was," she said quietly to herself, "but why Rockets? This is Hoenn – it's not under their jurisdiction at all, and it never was a stronghold, and now they're all over the place…"

Phoenix shrugged, the motion in his voice as he answered, "Times change, Wing-girl."

The Master flinched, but only a little, her mind preoccupied with that second mild shift, immersed in the confusion and suspicion of wild Pokémon. "They'll have… a bit of trouble… tracking these five down," she muttered. "No tracking types I can sense…"

"They're still in rather a lot of trouble," Phoenix murmured near her ear. "They're lost in the middle of an uncharted forest with thieves and murderers on their trail. I wouldn't call that a good situation by anyone's standards."

Wing grunted. "Familiar situation, maybe."

Phoenix's body heat evaporated as Sparks glanced up at her Master, perfectly unaware of the exchange, and asked, "What're we gonna do?"

Wing smirked. "We're going to piss off the Rockets."

Sparks rolled her eyes, settling onto the girl's shoulder and folding her wings. "Rowan told you not to do that anymore."

"Since when do I listen to him?"

"Since when do you listen to _anyone?_"

--

"_You do realise this is stupid?" he asked casually, hanging from the top bunk by his feet._

"_Well aware of it," she replied._

"_Good. Just checking."_

_--_

"_Grab my hand!" He had to bellow to be heard over the sound of rushing water._

"_I _can't!_"_

"_Wing, you have to trust me!"_

_--_

"_Do you think we can do it?" His voice was even and relaxed._

_Wing winked at him. "Do you think we can't?"_

_He laughed and slung one arm over her shoulder. "No way, Wing-girl! I know we can do it!"_

--

Wing answered Sparks calmly, "I only listen to people I respect." Then she stepped out of the shrubbery.

The girl looked about to scream but Wing quickly put a finger to her lips and the noise was automatically stifled. "Where are you headed?" she asked quietly. Not 'are you okay' or 'what the heck happened'. Just 'where are you headed'.

"That way," they chorused, pointing in nearly opposite directions. Wing rolled her eyes and rephrased.

"What town are you going to?"

"Mauville," the guy whispered, adjusting his grip on the Poochyena, which was eyeing Sparks nervously. "We were just walking on the trail when we got attacked by these two men in black suits. They said they were looking for somebody but we were 'worth the two minutes'." He clenched his fists.

"W-we only j-just ma-managed to get away," the girl whimpered.

"Did they manage to take any of your Pokémon?" the Master asked softly.

They both shook their heads. "They didn't take us seriously, so we escaped," the boy explained. "But now we're lost. Can…" He made an obvious effort to swallow his pride and asked, "Can you help us?"

Wing's mouth twitched into a faint smirk. "Can I not?" she whispered self-mockingly. Neither of the children and not even Sparks heard her, all focused on her louder words: "'Course I will. Follow me."

They struck out to the south-west straight away, Wing only needing to glance at the morning sun to get her direction, and circled around the mild disturbance that was two men stumbling through the trees and giving them a wide berth. The two younger Trainers didn't know that they had managed to evade them so entirely and just followed Wing and a grim Sparks silently, clinging nervously to their Pokémon and glancing over their shoulders occasionally.

After maybe an hour of anxiety and tense movement, Wing let out a sigh of relief and closed herself off, her eyes fading back to brown. "Ok, we're clear for now."

"Wha?" was the intelligent response she got.

The Master rolled her eyes but elaborated, "Those two idiots headed north, the direction you two first bolted in, looking for you, and we circled far enough around them that they shouldn't pick up our trail. For now at least, we're safe."

The two kids were wide-eyed, obviously processing this, and Wing sank to the ground in their brief pause of shock, letting tight muscles relax. She was exhausted, after spending so long with her mind basically wide open, but now was a very bad time to be sleeping. All she could give herself was several deep breaths before she drew on her strength again, standing up like nothing had happened, and nodding curtly to the younger Trainers. "We should put some distance between them and us," she said curtly. "No telling how fast they'll catch up, and we'll want to be in Mauville by then."

The Master took a few steps, then waited for the kids to catch on before she kept moving. She gave herself a few minutes of silence to rebuild her shaky barriers and reinforce them firmly before she asked, "Now that we're not eye-deep in major trouble, mind telling me your names?"

The boy shook himself, before nodding slowly. "I'm Michael, and she's Allie. We're both from Littleroot Town; y'know, down south."

The Master nodded. "You're both Trainers." It wasn't a question; it was an obvious statement. "How long?"

Michael swallowed, obviously still nervous; after the attack one couldn't blame him. "About six months, both of us."

Wing's eyebrows quirked up at that. "Congratulations on surviving against that pair for as long as you did, then. That's no easy feat for new Trainers." She ignored their slight bristling at being called 'new' Trainers, but hey, to a Master, they _were _new. She would have asked how their Pokémon were faring if she didn't already know: a few bruises and a minor case of shock, but aside from that, they were all fine. "What's your stamina like?"

The girl blinked, obviously confused, and Wing sighed. Ah, the vocabulary of ten-year-olds. Was she ever this illiterate? She hoped not. But this was off-topic. "How much longer can you walk?" she rephrased, eyeing their backpacks critically. "We're gonna have to keep moving if we want to get anywhere, and I for one am tired of getting repeatedly ambushed."

The two younger Trainers looked at each other, and Wing felt a shiver run up her spine as Phoenix whispered, "Yeah, we sure got ambushed a lot, didn't we?" He sounded faintly wistful, but there was still obvious laughter in his voice.

"Shut up," Wing hissed almost silently, so that not even the mouse by her foot could hear her, but she knew _he _could. "Get lost, Phoenix."

He snorted. "Like _I_ could get lost," he said teasingly. "I'm the unmatched compass, remember?"

Wing rolled her eyes, jaw clenched. "Could you and your ego go away, already? I have more important things to do than deal with your superiority complex."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then he was gone. It had always startled her how he came and went as he pleased without making a sound. Unless Phoenix wanted you to know he was there, then for all intensive purposes he wasn't there at all. Now that she thought about it he was probably the reason she herself was so quiet, having spent a good deal of her youth around him. Getting repeatedly smacked around the back of the head and ordered to 'walk quietly, dammit!' got very annoying after a while.

Wing blinked back to the present in time to hear Michael say, "I'm good for another couple of hours, but Allie's not as strong as I am. If we have to go too fast or too long I don't know if she'll keep up."

Allie flushed visibly but didn't argue. The Master frowned, mentally trying to calculate how long this would take before abandoning the maths in disgust and deciding they'd get there when they got there. "We'll just cover as much distance as we can today and work from there," she said aloud, tapping her staff against the ground. The little action had become a habit.

"Hey!" the boy yelped as she started to walk again. "Why are you helping us? We don't even know your name!"

Wing glanced back at them and half-smiled. It wasn't bitter or sarcastic or angry. It was just a sad, tired half-smile. "Because seven years ago, _I _was 'worth the two minutes'. But unlike you, I was on my own almost the whole time. It was such a relief to have someone who knew what the hell they were doing lead me out of there. If they'd taken much longer, I probably would have died."

The two kids were stunned into silence, and followed Wing without a word.

He breathed out softly. "I never knew it was such a 'relief'," he said quietly, teasingly, though he knew she couldn't hear him right now. "Your pride was such a strong force, even back then. It usually wasn't too hard to tell what you were thinking… but I guess… you got better at it…"

He sighed softly again, before melting back into the shadows to follow the newly-formed group.

--

The young Master stood silently at attention, her eyes half-open and her mind flickering as the nearby wildlife wandered in their nocturnal activities or rolled over in their sleep. The two Trainers she was guarding were fast asleep, curled up in their sleeping bags, and Sparks was perched on another branch nearby, also asleep. Soluna and Zeek had been brought up to speed while they were walking (at a very slow pace, Wing thought) and were ready to leap out if Wing gave the signal.

The girl stiffened as someone breathed on the back of her neck, then forced herself to relax. Only one person did that; he was the only one who knew exactly how much she hated it.

"Phoenix."

"You say it like you were expecting someone else," he said jokingly, leaning on her shoulder, making her go stiff again and hiss, "Get _off!_ I am not an armrest!"

"No," he said mildly, "but you're short enough to be one."

Wing hissed and took a swipe at his head, but her fist met empty air and she groaned. "Oh man, I am _so _losing it."

"Missed me!" he said brightly, seeming to appear out of nowhere on her left.

"I did not! That was a direct hit!" she retorted. "You're just too chicken to actually let one of my punches hit you! You're still a wuss!" She paused, then lowered her head into her heads. "Oh man, I _am _losing it. And here I thought I'd pinned my sanity back together."

"Wing, face it; you were never sane in the first place."

She whipped around and lashed out, but he was already gone, grinning teasingly a little further to the left. "You know you can't catch me," Phoenix said brightly, stepping to the side to avoid her next attack and then leaping backwards.

He was goading her, Wing knew. She paused to take a deep breath, then sprang after him anyway as he started to vanish into the trees. Sparks would wake up if anyone got too close.

She didn't have her staff. She didn't care. She attacked fiercely, not caring that her punches never hit even as she pushed him back desperately, easily dodging his half-hearted counters. Her eyes were blurry – she knew she couldn't hit him. Unless he wanted them to, _no one _could touch Phoenix.

She felt his hand close around her left wrist, and in a split second Wing found herself pinned to the ground, both arms pinned behind her back and most of Pheonix's weight leaning on her. She relaxed subconsciously; they both knew there was no point in fighting back once he had her pinned. He sighed, and his weight shifted slightly, but he didn't let her go. "Dammit, Wing," he sighed softly, "What's _wrong?_"

"Nothin'." Her voice was dull, tired, lacking the usual defiant spark.

"Ah, ah, Wing. You know you can't lie to me and get away with it. I know you hate me, but I still know you well enough to know when you're lying." His voice sounded faintly sad.

Wing bit the inside of her cheek resolutely, ignoring the pressure on her chest. "Just go away. Leave me alone." Not just tired, _exhausted, _almost… defeated. It didn't sound right, and Phoenix frowned.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I can't."

"Can't, or won't?" he asked flatly, not letting go.

"I _can't,_" she insisted, voice cracking, and Phoenix's grip automatically loosened. He cursed mentally, but instead of jerking free instantly like she normally would, Wing didn't move. It was like all the energy had seeped out of her. "I _can't,_" she repeated.

Phoenix cautiously let go of her wrists, ready to spring back out of the way if she took a swipe at him, but the Master only pulled herself slowly into a sitting position, her bangs hiding her face as her head tilted forward. "Wing, what's wrong?" Phoenix repeated quietly. She turned her head away from him slightly and he sighed. "Wing, you _know _you can trust me!" He sounded despairing. Afraid, almost.

The Master chuckled weakly, the sound sticking in her chest. "It's not you I don't trust," she said quietly, then jerked to her feet, staggering back towards the clearing. She raised her voice over her shoulder. "Just go away, Phoenix. It would be better… safer…" Her mouth formed the words 'safer for you', but her throat couldn't get them out.

She walked away.


	22. Mystery: Second

Yo. Late, whatevs, but my muse has recently gone very weird, and let's just not talk about school. There is a plot in here somewhere, I swear, and there's a little issue that I'm not sure I picked up… where did I put that chem task sheet… (wanders away muttering)

----

**Episode Twenty-Two: Mystery: Second**

Morning, 13th June, summer

----

Wing blinked as the morning sunlight struck her retinas, shaking her head slowly. She should feel exhausted, weighted down after a night of no sleep, guarding the two young Trainers she had picked up in the forests, but she felt normal. Probably a bad sign, she thought as she brought her arms over her head, eliciting several cracks from her back and arms.

"Hey kids, time to wake up," she called quietly, rubbing at her aching elbow joint – she had pulled a couple of muscles 'fighting' with Phoenix. "We want to get to Mauville as fast as we can, which means waking up ASAP."

There was a groan. Wing sighed, biting her lip to keep from grinning, and continued her stretching, wincing as her bad leg insisted that more damage had been done to it during the night when she hadn't been paying attention. "Stupid bone…" she muttered. "Honestly… six weeks is the average to heal a break. Took eight weeks, and promptly broke it again, worse. Took twelve weeks to heal, wasn't quite the same. Simple stress crack, a month later; could hardly stand on it for two months, three to fully repair. Totally shattered it six months ago, and it's _still _not healed."

Grumbling under her breath, she started to swing lazy punches, checking her muscles for strains – nothing too bad except for her left triceps, but that one had been her own fault, stumbling a little and grabbing a tree for balance, twisting her shoulder not quite right as she went. "Stupid leg… stupid muscles… stupid Phoenix…" she muttered, wincing internally.

"Mmph," one of the two Trainers groaned, rolling over and struggling to his feet. "M'wake. 'M awake."

Wing limped back over and prodded Allie with her foot. "Come on, kid, we need to get moving. We should be in Mauville by midday if we can get going soon. And the sooner we leave, the less chance of getting caught." Wing couldn't sense any disturbances nearby, but that didn't count for much. If the two Rockets had called for backup – _competent _backup – they could be in trouble.

The girl only groaned and rolled over. Wing raised an eyebrow, glancing at Sparks, who was just clambering down from her tree, stretching her back muscles as she went. "I guess not everyone wakes up as early as us, huh?"

"Not everyone can stay awake all night and have no evidence the next morning, either," Sparks grumbled.

Wing smiled innocently, and poked Allie with the end of her staff. "Come on, kid. Sooner you're up, the sooner we leave."

The boy was snoring, leaning against a tree, and Wing rolled her eyes. Sigh. This could take longer than she'd thought.

No less than an hour (a whole _hour_) later they were moving towards the small city, Wing leading the two stranded Trainers like yesterday, eyes slightly glazed as they flickered painfully with coloured undertones (not the full shifts of her bonded Pokémon, but with the scale of what she was doing), letting her skim her surroundings through the consciousnesses of the nearby Pokémon.

"Um…"

She forced her mind back into full focus when one of the Trainers – _the girl, _her blurred thoughts managed to make out – made an uncertain noise, like she wanted to ask something. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice slightly distracted.

Allie squeaked, then gulped, pulling her courage together and asking, "If you don't mind me asking… what's your name?"

The Master paused. That's right, she hadn't even told the kids who she was… not even an alias. They were following a nameless stranger to who-knew where, trusting her to lead them away from the Rockets and out of danger. Trusting her to save them.

Wing blinked and tugged her thoughts back under control – she was going to have to do something about that spacing-out habit before it got her killed. Who was her alias today? Tempest, the foul-tempered ex-Gym Leader turned explorer? Mystery, the dark and dangerous shadow who worked through the underworld and her contacts there? Maybe Raven, the late-blooming Pokémon Trainer with attitude?

_It's time Mystery showed her face again, I think,_ Wing decided, before saying aloud, "I'm usually known as Mystery. I've been out of town recently – investigating a couple of things that caught my attention. Lucky for you guys I was so close."

The girl made a vague noise of agreement, and as things fell silent on the human end, Wing let her mind fall free again, hearing flickers of wind and leaves so far away and feeling the simple lives of the forest Pokémon. _Eat, play, sleep and enjoy,_ she thought, barely aware. _Even Pokémon fights – wild fights – rarely get serious… except in pack situations, but that's different. That's always different._

_The human world has so many layers, so many sections, pieces, and so many parts are missing, or hidden… like a jigsaw scattered… nothing seems to fit, but there are no other options…_

_Wait. One of my aliases – Raven. Wasn't…_

Team Rocket had been tracking someone called 'Raven', when she and Rowan got ambushed nearly three weeks ago.

At the time it hadn't clicked, and right then she mentally cursed her slowness with a strong variety of curse words. One thing about being a Master was that you got to learn quite a few swears.

It could just be coincidence, but she doubted it. Her luck didn't work well enough for something like _that _to just be a coincidence.

Someone in the Rockets had tracked down her alias, applied the name to the face and gotten a positive identity, which was really bad – Wing had been avoiding populated areas for two years. So if someone had worked it out… they had to have really been looking.

They were after her again.

Crap.

Wing's hand went to Zanna's Pokéball, mind whirring furiously. If Raven had been identified, did that mean –

No. She hadn't had any of her normal Pokémon on her but Sparks for two years. They hadn't been shooting for Raven – but they hadn't been shooting for Master Wing, either. There was something funny going on, but she couldn't quite work out _what._

Raven had been identified. What did that _mean?_

It meant that Raven was a known Trainer, that she had become a known figure.

_Localised?_

Maybe.

Not likely, knowing her luck.

If Raven had been identified, it… didn't actually mean a lot. It meant that her alias was starting to build up a trail of renown – and she could use that as an alibi later if she needed to. If people had started to track Raven –

_No, not track, you're being paranoid._

If people had started to… _recognise _Raven outside of normal parameters – outside of places she had been – then at most, it meant it was time for that character to drop out of the limelight.

Hell, Raven had never even been a battler, Wing thought with annoyance. The 'Trainer' persona had been brought up some time during her no-battling stint, so no one had ever seen her fight. How could she have gotten famous enough for Team Rocket to take an interest…?

Her eyes narrowed. Now _there _was something worth thinking on.

Wing's sharp mind flickered through its own processes, skimming more dimly over her surroundings as she thought furiously. It made no sense. Raven had never been a fighter, never even shown her Pokémon. Team Rocket didn't like mysteries, but as long as they didn't bother them, they would usually leave 'em alone. What had Raven done to get their attention?

She focused on every memory she had that had been filed vaguely under the 'Raven' subheading, trying to find one that would warrant the interest. Had they just wanted to know if she was a threat or not? Maybe checking for recruit material? She almost shuddered. God no.

It was true, though: as far as she remembered, Raven hadn't done anything worth checking. Hopefully, that was the simple truth, and not her mind messing with her again.

So if someone had been able to recognise her as 'Raven', did that mean Wing Benden had almost been forgotten?

She hoped so.

----

"Mauville City," she said quietly.

The two young Trainers sagged with obvious relief, staring out at the city from the edge of the forest. Wing had managed to get them to the northern border of the city, and true to her guesswork, the sun was edging its way up to midday, glinting off the purple roofs, and the Master shaded her eyes, scanning for the distinctive crimson of the Pokémon Centre. She still felt detached, calm, but she was beginning to get twinges here and there.

It was making her tense, though she didn't show it.

"Come on," the Master stated abruptly, tipping her head slightly. The two children followed her questionlessly down the street, and Wing tilted her head to look at the clear sky. There were a couple of clouds hanging around, nothing that would suggest rain, but… her skin was tingling. _Another rain on the way? Already…_

"Centre is that way," Wing voiced aloud, not letting herself shiver with anticipation of the coming storm. "The police station is down that street, and the Pokémart's a block down from it. You should be okay from here." She nodded to them, and then began to walk swiftly towards the Pokémon Centre. Zanna needed help, and she had wasted enough time.

"Hey, Mystery!" the boy – Michael – shouted after her. Wing glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow in question, and he waved, yelling, "Thank you!!"

She couldn't help the slight chuckle, and raised two fingers in farewell.

----

Wing sat silently in the waiting room, staring out at the sky, which was sporting numerous fluffy clouds by this stage. She took another deep, steadying breath, and let it out slowly, her eyes shifting imperceptibly in colour until they were solid blue, and started to bleed red and grey into the iris. She ignored the burning twinges, just letting her senses swirl softly around her like a faint breeze. The effect was distracting.

"_No teachers, or guidance,  
And you always walk alone…"_

Wing blinked as her heart skipped a beat and then tightened in fear, and glanced sideways with a frown. She couldn't see one anyone…

…_but around here that doesn't count for much._

She glanced back out the window, and flinched. It was raining, the sky dark and heavy with clouds.

When had that happened?

A roar of thunder sounded, still a fair way off, and some of the other Trainers nearby shifted anxiously, but the Master just stared intently out at the water beginning to pour down heavily, obscuring everything in a thick mist of solid grey water.

She wanted to be out there in the rain, and her chest was starting to ache, but she didn't move. The air was getting colder, the sky darker and darker as time passed without her noticing.

"_And you always walk alone…"_

Wing sprang to her feet and whipped around, her eyes scanning quickly for the voice she _knew _she was hearing, but upon not seeing anything, she could only groan silently and run her hands through her shortened hair. _I'm just imagining it, aren't I? Not even real._

_God, I hate this…_

_But it's safer…_

_**Who says?**_

Wing turned her head abruptly to the door leading to the emergency room, and a few seconds later, the light flickered out, and the nurse came out, glancing around. Her eyes locked onto the eighteen-year-old already limping her way, and her mouth twisted, but her eyes were uncertain. Wing knew what was going through her head: _Idiot Trainer… what happened… stupid decisions… rash, pig-headed… _then, watching her approach, _she's injured too, too stubborn to even get herself looked at? Was it an accident… what could have happened…_

The Master forestalled any and all questions the nurse had, asking, "How's Zanna doing?" even though she already knew the answer.

There was a three-second pause of hesitation, before Nurse Joy told her, "She'll be fine. No vital organs were hit, and none of the bones were nicked. I would recommend keeping her out of the air for a few weeks, and then building it up, but your Zanna was very lucky. I've seen Pokémon grounded by injuries like those."

Wing didn't twitch, though mentally she had flinched slightly at the sharp reminder of Sraina. Aloud, not letting herself reflect anything of her thoughts, she said, "I know. We got damn lucky. How–" She found herself cut off by a furious, panicky screech and a flare of fearful anger from Zanna's tie, and without waiting for the nurse to even spin around, she bolted down the corridor.

The Swellow wasn't even trying to communicate actual words – just shrieking with anger and well-hidden fright at her being restrained, fighting against the white gauze bandages and beating her wings powerfully, knocking away the Chansey attempting to hold her back.

"Zanna!" Wing called as she took the normal-type's place and ducked a talon. "Zans, it's alright, I'm right here, you're okay. Leave the bandages alone; you need them. Hey hey, I _mean _it, quit pickin' at 'em!"

The Swellow screeched once more and then abruptly settled down, clucking and ruffling her feathers uncomfortably. The Master chuckled and stroked the sleek feathers at her head, smoothing them down and whispering to the bird gently, and Zanna relaxed as the rain thundered down outside, the rain pelting the windows of the Centre.

----

Hours passed, and Wing found herself leaning against the window, staring out into the midnight darkness and heavy grey rain, occasionally lit up by flashes of white lightning or punctuated with explosions of thunder that had been getting steadily louder as time went by.

All of the other Trainers were asleep, and even Nurse Joy was unconscious by this stage, just the Centre's Chansey keeping it running. Zanna was asleep on her bed, stark white bright against her blue and red feathers, with Ace and Trick curled up close by her. Soluna and Zeek were resting on the floor at the foot of the bed, although she could see the Absol was still on alert, his ears pricked for any dangerous noise. Sparks was snoring faintly on the windowsill Wing had chosen.

Something cold slipped down her cheek, and Wing blinked, frowning slightly in confusion. Touching her face, there was cold water streaking it. But she wasn't in the rain – why would there be…?

"_You're crying at night when  
Nobody else is home…"_

Her mouth tightened and she glared at the window, where she could just see her silvered, wavering reflection. Cold, icy drops of silver streaked down her reflection's cheeks, and she purposely turned away from the lying glass. It _had _to be lying.

The rain poured down harder than ever.

----

The morning after dawned bright and clear, not a cloud in the sky. Sparks, of course, was up at dawn, and Zanna roused not long after. Watching Ace and Trick wrestling violently on the floor, Sparks attacking at random and Soluna pretending _very _resolutely that she did _not _know these crazies, Wing found herself smiling, pulling herself back together. She reached down to her hip for Ko–

No.

Her whole face shut down and she let her hand drop lifelessly to her side. No, she couldn't call out one of her best friends to play and enjoy a tussle that would've made up for the rainstorm of the night before that the Growlithe had always hated. Wing couldn't call her out.

"Hey, Wing, are you okay?" Sparks asked anxiously, shaking Ace off as the two Eevee raced to attack Soluna – good luck, there – and settled near the Master's feet. "I mean, things have just gone really crazy just now, haven't they? Team Rocket back, people missing, Skyler back on active duty, and – the day before yesterday…"

With no hesitation at all in her movements Wing laughed and rubbed Sparks's head, tickling the bases of her ears. "I'm fine, Sparks, seriously. You know me – bounce back from everything. I'm okay."

"_You're laughing  
But you're hiding…"_

The Master's breathing barely even shifted: she was getting used to these random flickers. But she still couldn't sense him, not even the vague warmth he usually was at the edge of her range. Which made her wonder if he'd actually buggered off for once.

"_God I know that trick too well…"_

Or if she was just going completely crazy.

"I'm okay, Sparky-girl. It's just like you said: things have gone a little crazy."

----

_And now I'm just the shell…_

----

Wing held out a sealed envelope to the nurse at the front desk with a faint smile – she was almost too tired to hold it together. "If a young man by the name of Rowan Telgar comes in here, could you give him this, please?"

Nurse Joy nodded, smiling gently back at her. It had not escaped Wing's attention that most of the Centre kept half an eye on her, and she was _fairly _sure it was because of her limp, but just in case her paranoia was actually onto something this time…

It was time to leave.

Wing swung her backpack onto her shoulders and adjusted it automatically, leaning heavily on her right leg until she could hold her staff again to use the injured left. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going this time, but she wanted to get the cold, rain-swept streets of Mauville behind her as soon as possible. Zanna was sleeping, well on her way to recovery, and Sparks and Soluna were simply content to follow.

The Master didn't have the luxury of being calm and relaxed. Not after realising Team Rocket was on the move again, not after what she had heard in the Team Aqua base ten days ago, and definitely not after Zanna had nearly been killed. This was so damn dangerous, and she was struggling with the rising feeling that something was very wrong.

"_You're not asleep, but it's a nightmare…"_

She sighed faintly, the mouse trotting at her feet not hearing it. "Boy, have you got that right…"


	23. Relentless Friendship

Yes, I know this is rather late. My apologies. My immune system kicked the bucket over the holidays and I am now catching every disease and virus that I didn't have time to catch during the academic year. It's hard to write when your vision blacks out every now and then and you're never sure if you've passed out or are about to vomit. Very disturbing.

Then school started up again, and, well, you can guess where that went. Sorry.

This chapter is dedicated to iluvromance909, for figuring out something that no one else has, and that she herself is slightly dubious on the reality of.

Yes, iluvromance, I know damn well that was no help. But I hope you enjoy this toughie of a chapter, and the neat little 'reveal' section.

----

**Twenty-Three: Relentless Friendship**

15th June, summer

----

"Are you sure about this?" Sparks asked dubiously, peeking around the corner of the port.

"Not really," Wing admitted, "but I've got a bad feeling, and I don't want to ignore it and then find out someone's gone and blown something up, y'know?"

The lightning mouse rolled her eyes. "Only you."

It had been a strange trip south from the purple city of lightning, but Wing had oddly enjoyed the fifty-kilometre bike stretch in the middle. It had been too long since she'd ridden a bicycle, she thought musingly, and even if her still-hurting left leg gave out, she could coast most of the way anyway – it was all downhill.

The port was a hive of activity, like usual – which would have made it very hard for the Master to stay under the radar, if not for long practice hiding. These people weren't even actively _looking_ for her. She hid in the shadows neatly, and when things seemed busiest, she scrambled out of her niche, scrabbling for papers that were scattered over the floor and moving purposefully towards one of many rooms of the Team Aqua undercover hideout. Sparks stayed where she was, with orders to listen to any conversation for useful tidbits and, if she got caught, to short out every electrical system within five blocks.

Rule number one: Always have a bolt hole.

No, wait, that was rule two. Rule One was Fight Dirty Or Die.

Which applied to that last order just as much as Rule Two, really.

Wing wasn't even sure what she was looking for – the last time she'd checked in, Team Aqua had made peace with Team Magma and had stopped trying to flood the planet. There was even talk of joining the two into one team aimed at protecting the planet and its inhabitants. Apparently _that _had folded, if Brendan's capture was any indication.

She moved smoothly out of the way of a pair of Machoke walking past, carrying large, heavy-looking boxes with a man dressed in a sailor's uniform walking close behind them, apparently directing the two heavylifters. She couldn't see any identifying insignia on him, but paranoia had saved her life more times than she cared to count. Besides, the teams who liked to make her life hell had been getting disconcertingly intelligent as of late. Being cautious wasn't a bad idea.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she whirled smoothly, doing a full three-sixty degree turn and revealing that there was no one standing behind her. She kept going, the bitter tingle fading away as she walked down the corridors, searching for something. She didn't know what.

Cautiously, Wing opened her mind, ready to spring back if she was besieged by the same magnitude of Pokémon screams that had assaulted her when she was searching for Brendan's Pokémon a few weeks ago. But her senses met peaceful silence, and she let it drift further, probing the area silently for any disturbances.

Her head snapped around at a mental yelp of surprise from Soluna and a snarl from Zeek, but the pair – she'd left them a hundred metres or so from the port to warn her if something big was going down without warning – sent her a quick apology – they'd been startled by a flock of Pelipper. Soluna sounded rather embarrassed, when she thought about it, and Wing let herself smile faintly.

"_Stay on alert," _she thought, sending the message as strongly as she could to compensate for the distance. _"If anything crops up, let me know."_

"_Hey, I'm hearing something that could be important," _Sparks broke in, her mind-voice urgent.

Wing instantly shifted her attention. "What's up?"

"_This techie guy is saying something about the Genesis project. Have you heard of it?"_

Wing frowned, leaning against a wall and taking the weight off her bad leg for a second. _"Genesis… I've heard of it, but nothing to do with Team Aqua – it was an old Rocket plan that got shelved after… the Goldenrod Tower incident. Years ago that was – I think it was destroyed after Ecruteak. What would Aqua be doing under the same name…?"_

"_Um… Wing, you're not going to like this…"_

"_What am I not going to like?" _Wing asked suspiciously.

Zeek suddenly snarled mentally, Soluna hissing a sharp warning, _"People, about a squad's worth, all headed your way – don't know who or why but watch your back, Wing!"_

Sparks continued grimly, a little louder than before, _"Wing, listen to me, wherever you are, you_ have_ to get out of there, if there are people coming –"_

"_SHIT!"_ Zeek roared, and then there was a bright flare of energy from both him and Soluna and Wing let out a sharp cry, accidentally hitting a wall at the sudden disorientation. She swore, shaking her head violently – the adrenaline flashes from battle, she wasn't used to them again yet – and pulled her senses in close, feeling clarity returning to her world as she fought to maintain her own reason.

"_Wing! WING!"_ Sparks was shouting. Wing could hear her, physically _hear _her screaming it aloud. _"Get the hell out of there! Something major is up! Move it, now! We have to get out of here!"_

"_Master Wing!" _Zeek yelled, his booming bark echoing even from far away, _"This is bad! It's not Aqua! It's not Team Aqua!"_

"_Team Aqua didn't take the plans or invent a new thingamo under Team Rocket's Genesis!"_ Sparks bellowed.

"_Owww! You'll pay for that you bastard!"_ the Espeon screeched.

"_Soluna!"_

"_Sparks, keep going!"_

"_Zeek look out!"_

"_IT'S THE ROCKETS!"_

…_I knew it._

One of the downsides to Wing's vague telepathic abilities was the fact that it was confined to Pokémon. She had to rely on her regular senses to detect human movement, and her distraction over her Pokémon's screams and screeches of rage was nearly her undoing. She caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of one pain-wide eye and dropped to the floor. The knife barely caught the cloth at her shoulder, and then she was fighting for her life.

Screeches, howls, crashes and clatters filled her ears and mind as she knocked out the man who had almost gotten the jump on her with a few well-placed blows before scrambling for the exit. _"Everybody, get the hell out of here!" _she ordered. _"Move it, move it, MOVE IT!"_

"_Zeek and I are stuck outside!"_

"_I'm pinned down! There's too many of 'em! Ouch – you _bastard, _that was a _feather, _I am going to shock you into next _week –_"_

Wing let loose a savage grin at the sound of electricity sparking down the hallway, followed by several screams – then she let out a yelp of shock as she was ambushed again. Fighting like a trapped wolf, snarling and struggling – but she was tired – why the hell was she tired –

"_Wing! We have to get out of here!"_

"_This place is a deathtrap!"_

"_Master Wing, get out of there!"_

But Wing had gotten backed into a corner, and even now bared her teeth savagely at the four people who were hovering just out of reach of her staff and her fists. But she knew, dangerously, desperately, that she was lost as all hell – her sense of direction had never been that good – now running, fighting, she had no clue how to get out.

_No teachers, or guidance,  
And you always walk alone…_

Wing's eyes narrowed and she hissed, violently, feverishly, under her breath, "Phoenix!"

Did she imagine that faint impish laughter, exactly how he used to laugh and tease and taunt? She had to have imagined it – God, she was going insane –

The people surrounding her all took a step away, glancing around suspiciously, and the inane chuckles coming out of nowhere seemed to echo and get – _louder? _And the four men in the black outfits she was recognising as new-style Rocket uniforms all seemed to get more and more nervous.

"Phoenix!" Wing hissed again, lowering her centre of gravity and bracing herself again. "Get lost, you – you –" Her usually resplendent vocabulary sputtered out as she spotted the gap her four guards had inadvertently made and dove through, suddenly sprinting again. Her staff crashed violently against the noisy floor as she ran – the Master sensed someone coming up behind her and swerved, taking a quick detour down a side passage that had just opened up unexpectedly – something clipped her ankle and she put on a burst of speed – but she felt her balance going – scrambled – twisted – hit the floor with a heavy crash and an all-too-audible crack.

Wing's mind came crashing down as white-hot agony exploded in her bad leg, lances of fire shooting into her hip and down into her toes under the strain of the broken bone. Her head had slammed against the floor, but the quick flickers of pain in her skull weren't what had drained her face of all colour as she lay crumpled on the steel panels.

Slowly, her Pokémon's yelps and screeches of fear penetrated the pained haze covering her thoughts.

"_Wing! We – crash – hurt – what –!"_

"_Master – people – shouting – heard–"_

"_Wing – gotta – run – what's – ok–"_

It was fuzzy and she blotted them out, her world coming back into eerily sharp focus as she opened her eyes – faces leaning over her – sneers blending with anxiety – _going into shock – _pain blurring everything –

_The pain you feel is real,_

_You're not asleep, but it's a nightmare_

"Phoenix," Wing whispered, sounding defeated.

_But you can wake up anytime…_

Wing took a deep, shuddering breath. "Phoenix… please," she murmured. "Please. I'm sorry. I need your help. I – I don't… _please._"

The hair on the back of her neck stood up; there was a single cry of surprise. Then silence.

Haltingly, warily, Wing opened her eyes. The world swung and blurred in front of her, a painfully coloured smudge that faded in and out of focus for several seconds before deciding what shape it was going to be. A pair of shoes materialised, edges slightly blurred into the dull grey of the floor. Paleness streaked with orange, black soot and red dirt making a pattern against shoe that _used _to be stark white, a streaky marbling of a map of where he had been.

Then he moved, kneeling next to her as she felt his hands on her shoulders. He shifted, moving her and gently pulling her into a sitting position, supporting the young Master as she slumped exhaustedly against him. Her leg hurt and her head ached and her ears were buzzing faintly and she was completely drained. "You came," she whispered tiredly, hands shaking with pain-fuelled adrenaline.

Phoenix's arm was around her shoulders, holding her upright. She was too deep in shock, intoxicated with pain, to keep herself up. "Of course I came," he responded softly. "I promised, remember? Whenever you need me, I'll always be here. That will never change."

"But…" Wing protested weakly, grimacing as she shifted her weight painfully. "I said I hated you. I tried so hard to get you to leave…"

"Doesn't matter," he interrupted, hugging her more tightly, reassuringly. "I'll always be here for you."

Wing's head lolled back against his chest as her guard crumbled, and for the first time in five years, Phoenix was allowed to hug her, and Wing was allowed to cry. She sobbed quietly for several minutes, in the remnants of numbing pain, deep sadness and sharp, aching, despairing relief, and the young man let her tears soak into his shirt, kneeling quietly on the floor of the infiltrated base. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly, before he relaxed and his tone turned light and almost-teasing. "So, another broken leg, eh?"

Wing choked out a laugh coupled with a strangled groan of "Not _again…_" She squirmed a little, the dull numbness that was her dissociation from the pain making her uncomfortable.

Phoenix chuckled lightly. "We're gonna have company soon, Wing-girl," he warned her, easing the supporting arm from around her shoulders and making sure she could sit up on her own. With the pain blurred out, she could, blinking at him quizzically.

She made a grab for his sleeve as he stood up. "Please don't go," she whispered.

He smiled at her. "I'll never leave," he promised, and melted into the shadows.

----

Wing's Pokémon, immersed in a kind of fearful silence, followed the trail of destruction and downed agents. Tried and true method for finding their Master: follow the bodies/broken objects. They didn't speak to each other, not needing to: Wing's retreat from their ties in a brilliant flare of white lightning was all that they needed to know. The entire base seemed to have been gassed or something; they had come across only two people actually conscious. They hadn't stayed that way long. Darting around another corner of the hidden port, all three of them stopped short, pulling up in light of the scene spread in front of them.

The Pokémon Master Wing Benden sat upright, leg held gingerly in front of her, twisted at a bizarrely broken angle, ashen-faced with pain and sweat-streaked with obvious exertion. Sprawled around her were the unconscious carcasses of at least half a dozen people, tiny red R's embroidered on collars and jacket pockets indicating their status as Rocket members.

"What the –" Sparks said a word not commonly used in civil conversation.

Soluna let out a laughing, gasping sigh of – though she'd never admit it – relief. _"Wing's miracles are back,"_ was her only comment.

----

Cursing, limping, and eventually (after much prodding and protesting) allowing Zeek to carry her, Wing made it out of the base looking rather the worse for wear: bruised, scratched, and with one leg hanging uselessly broken. "Stupid fucking Rockets…" she grumbled under her breath, hands buried unsteadily in Zeek's long white fur to hold her balance, with his solemn promise that he would tell her if she started pulling.

"_Should we head to the Pokémon Centre here?" _Soluna asked Zeek, sounding concerned.

The Absol shook his head instantly. "Too close to the danger zone. With Wing and Zanna both out, it wouldn't be prudent to stay so near to a recent battlefield."

"I'm right here, you know," Wing said, too tired to really be annoyed. She could barely work up the energy to even be amused. _Why am I so tired…?_

"Mauville means we'd be backtracking, though," Sparks pointed out from where she was trotting along the road. They were starting to get funny looks from passersby; a teenager riding an Absol, with all the Pokémon acting as her escort appearing to be arguing. Not exactly a sight one would see every day. "If someone was tracking us at any point we might be running into an ambush."

"Still here…" the Master commented, as if speaking to thin air. For all the reaction she got she may as well have been.

"_It's the only option we've got. The mountains blocking Littleroot are impassable; we've tested it," _Soluna pointed out. _"Mauville is the closest option we have without actually being in the same city as our recent troublemaking."_

"What about the Skyler bases?" Zeek asked. "They'd take care of her, probably better than a Centre –"

Sparks was already shaking her head. "I only know the location of one of them, and it's in the mountains near Fortree. We'd be better off trying to get to Littleroot than going through there – you need wings to get in."

"Damn."

"I thought the Trainer was supposed to give their Pokémon the directions," Wing commented, glaring at a concerned-looking bystander who had paused for a second too long. The woman hurried off. The Pokémon continued to argue.

"_I don't know where any of the blasted things are or I'd teleport us,"_ Soluna sighed crossly._ "I've been in them, but their positions aren't marked in my memory. It'd be too risky to try it."_

"I ought to be able to run her to Mauville without causing more damage, but it'll take a while," Zeek mused.

"They sure as hell wouldn't let us on the bike path," Sparks grumbled. "Although…"

Now the Absol was baulking. "No. The rapid movement required to evade them might cause her further injury. I will not risk it."

Sparks sighed heavily and waved at him. "I know, I know, but I don't like to think what will happen if we leave it too long. That leg is really fragile; if we run into any trouble, there's no telling what kind of damage she might cause to it." Turning to Soluna, she almost begged the psychic, "Are you _sure _there's nothing you can do?"

The Espeon nodded grimly. _"It's broken in two places in the ankle and another in the tibia, not counting the other fractures and breaks that were half-healed before she pulled this stunt. I can't work with it – I might cause more damage, I'm no doctor. I can do field patches, or strengthening a weak spot, or even putting protective shields over breaks that have already been set, but I'm not fooling around with it this time."_

"I could say anything to these guys and they wouldn't pay me the slightest bit of attention," Wing sighed. She was too tired to really care, though.

"How long will it take you to get to Mauville, if you don't want to hurt Wing?" Sparks asked.

"Approximately five hours," Zeek replied. "I could make it in under two if I was going at full speed, but that would be dangerous, particularly on the lower level."

"You know, I think I have the answer to our problem," Wing piped up.

"Why can't you just teleport us to the Centre in Mauville, anyway?" Sparks grouched at Soluna.

"_Teleporting isn't as easy as 'point-and-click', you know! It's a very precise thing and I don't remember Mauville well enough to risk it, okay?!"_

"In fact, this would probably be the easiest solution yet," Wing continued, as if she wasn't being ignored.

"Wouldn't high speed be a good thing on the lower path?" Sparks wondered aloud. "I mean, it'd be easier to avoid the Pokémon and Trainers down there."

"Affirmative, but it is also more difficult to dodge obstacles at a higher speed."

"If only I wasn't being treated as if I didn't exist, I'd be able to solve your problem," Wing told them, raising her voice just a little.

Surprisingly, it worked. "Hm? What do you mean, milady?" Zeek asked, tilting his head to look at her with one blood red eye.

Smirking, Wing pointed. "We _could _ask Rowan for help, considering he's _right there._"

Following her finger, the three Pokémon all stared in abject astonishment. The brunette Skyler agent stared back, having not expected finding his wayward friend to be _quite _that easy. Wing waved him over, gesturing with just two fingers, and Rowan took the invitation without a second's hesitation, moving rapidly towards her. "Wing!" he called, sounding relieved and startled.

"That's my name, don't wear it out," the girl informed him carelessly. "Have you got backup anywhere near here?" Her voice dropped noticeably, and Rowan frowned.

"Yeah, what's the trouble?"

Indicating with a flick of her eyes, Wing said, "The port. Me and the guys infiltrated on a hunch and a trail I've been following since before Lavaridge, and we came across something we think you guys might want to know about."

"Oh for god's sake, just tell him already," Sparks grumbled, fidgeting, obviously cross with herself. "Why the hell didn't we notice him before?"

Zeek shrugged slightly, making sure the motion wouldn't unseat the Master on his back. "I stand by my original interpretation: Master Wing knows everything. And will continue to for a long while to come, so we should all just get used to it and stop asking things like 'what the frig'. By the way, are you done swearing yet?" he asked Soluna, who had been cursing continuously since Rowan's promptly unexpected appearance.

She didn't pause.

"That's a no," Sparks sighed, glancing at the humans. Wing had apparently finished explaining, as Rowan's eyes were bugging out.

"Genesis?" he asked sharply. "You're sure?"

Apparently Wing wasn't as far into the explanation as she had thought.

The Master nodded. "Sparks said they had it 'running', but I can't remember what that project was about – so I don't have any more info there. But seriously, about that backup, there's five dozen unconscious people you may want to capture that we left behind in the base."

"Five dozen?" Rowan sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Not again, Wing, you _know _what that kind of backlog does…"

"I'm sorry! It was kind of an emergency!"

Rowan was already pressing the keys on the small black cell that Wing had given him before she left. "Cedar?" He paused, apparently listening to a lecture from the long-suffering look on his face. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, listen, I need a couple of squads down in Slateport." Another pause. "Yeah. Yes, I _know, _but there was an unexpected bust down here! Just send 'em, alright?"

He flipped the phone shut with an irritated sigh, refocusing on his childhood friend. "So… he said slowly, "why are you riding Zeek? Did I miss something?"

"Uh…" Wing coughed, an actual blush lighting her cheeks like Christmas lights. "Yeah, about that… I kindabrokemylegagain."

Rowan blinked, unable to translate the mumble. "What?"

"I broke my leg again, okay?!" the Master snapped, scowling furiously at him.

Rowan opened his mouth to say something smart back, but closed it again with an audible click of teeth as he took in her awkward position and the greyish pallor of her face. "Oh, God," he groaned, running his hand through his hair. It was a nervous habit. "Sorry, Wing, we'll get you back to base straight away – why didn't you just _tell _me? How bad is it? What the hell were you _thinking, _I keep _telling _you not to pull this crap on your own –"

"Mother hen," Wing grumbled, but she smiled faintly as Rowan fussed over her. "Come on, just get us back to base, these guys are getting a bit tetchy – wait, we need to wait for your backup so we can show 'em where to go…"

"Eagle, sir? Where do you need us?"

Rowan turned around to blink at the squad of eight people that had materialised behind him. "Well, that solves that problem, then," he remarked. "Wing?"

"On it. You lot," she ordered, her voice taking on the experienced sternness that got their attention and respect simultaneously. "I assume you all know the SlatePort building, two stories, blue with white and red trim. That place has a basement that's not on the blueprints. There's approximately five dozen enemy agents down there, currently incapacitated; they need to be detained ASAP before any of them can make contact with their home base and get backup. Me and the guys downed everything we could, but they may have radios hidden somewhere that we didn't have time to disable. Understood?"

"Yessir!" was the general response, and Wing smirked.

"Good. Get moving; there's no telling how long it'll take 'em to wake up."

The squad melted into the crowd, headed for the secret base that had been cleared, and Rowan turned to his exhausted friend with a sigh, debating on whether or not he should tell her. It was what he'd come looking for her for, after all, but… she was already injured… how could he add to her burden like this?

_You're crying, at night when,  
Nobody else is home…_

"Rowan, what is it?" Wing interrupted his gloomy thoughts sternly. When he winced and bit his lip, stalling, her eyes narrowed dangerously, Wing-language for 'spit it out, you bastard'.

The brunette sighed. There was no easy way to break it to her, and she'd only get more riled up if he took too long to explain. "Wing, your little sister's gone missing," he said flatly, without preamble. "No one's sure when it happened, but we think she's been kidnapped."

For a second he was certain that this was it, that she was going to crack and shatter right in front of him, but suddenly, her eyes sharpened, and her lackadaisical posture astride Zeek straightened, her face making the shift from the tired, bored Wing, to a Master who was out for blood.

"Say WHAT?!"


End file.
